Monsters in the Mirror
by K.C.Dragonfly
Summary: We're all searching for someone whose demons play well with our own...
1. Viva Las Vegas

**Hi all!**

 **New story :)** **This is based on a current storyline on Australian Soap Neighbours and one of the characters will be borrowed from this. I hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Most of you will recognise this chapter as being largely taken from the first episode of Season 5, Viva Las Vegas. Don't worry, it's just setting the scene. Future chapters will not have so many lines ripped directly from the show!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and I do not make any profit from this story**

* * *

Sara sighed, lifting her head.

"So, I had some time to think while I was away." She began calmly. "Enough time to figure out why I made such a stupid mistake. I – I do not have a drinking problem. I have a ... uh, me problem. My PEAP counsellor suggested that it would be a good idea for me to talk to my supervisor and that's you, Grissom; so ... I never told you about my family. I never told anyone about my family, why would I..."

"Sara?"

She started, tearing her gaze from her reflection in the small mirror. Finding herself being watched by Greg and an unknown woman, she rose to her feet nervously and prepared to explain herself. However, if Greg was at all perplexed by finding her talking to herself in the locker room, he didn't show it as he eagerly gestured to the bored-looking woman next to him.

"I want you to meet my replacement. This is Chandra."

Sara smiled, doing her best to still the butterflies in her stomach.

"Nice to meet you Chandra."

The woman smiled back, although it was the tight smile of someone who wanted to be anywhere else right now.

"Likewise."

Oblivious to the awkward tension that suddenly befell the room, Greg continued to beam at Sara.

"So, how was it?"

Her smile faltered and a knot started to form in her stomach.

"How was what?"

"Well, you took some vacation time, right?"

"Yeah, right." She relaxed slightly, although her eyes remained wide and startled. "It was great."

"Yeah, okay." Greg nodded, casting a glance at Chandra and realising that she was looking decidedly bored. Offering Sara a final grin and a wink, he gestured for the new lab tech to follow him on their tour of the lab.

She turned, nodding curtly in Sara's direction, before shuffling down the hall after the hyperactive young man.

Sara held her face in a fixed smile for a moment longer, waiting until she was definitely alone again before finally releasing a relieved breath.

* * *

He scanned the room, looking for a suitable source of heat; but the only heartbeat in his office was his own, as his companions were all long-dead and preserved in their jars.

"Grissom?"

He whirled around, as two blurry shapes appeared in the doorway, shrouded in a red mist.

Greg, unfazed by the boss' unusual attire, raised a hand towards the other figure.

"I'd like to introduce you to Chandra Moore."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." She crooned, offering a hand that went un-shook. "I'm a fan."

Grissom gave the woman a slow once-over.

"You're hot."

The words slipped out before he could call them back and he instantly felt his own cheeks flame beneath his helmet.

"I...I'm sorry?" Chandra stuttered, slowly retracting her hand and clasping it behind her back.

"You're emanating heat." Gil explained by way of apologising. He slipped his helmet off and held it up proudly. "This is a new infrared camera. It's good for looking at evidence in the dark."

She nodded, not as impressed as he'd have hoped. Turning his attention to Greg, he gestured towards the woman.

"Did you get her blood yet?"

Chandra's eyes widened impossibly further.

"My ... why?"

The hint of a smile played on Grissom's lips, as he offered a meek shrug.

"So many reasons."

Before he could explain further, a sharp holler from the corridor made them all jump and the furious heel clicks of Catherine Willows descended on the room.

"You can't possibly call that thing my office!" She insisted, storming between Greg and Chandra until she was inches from Grissom's face. "It's a cupboard!"

"Catherine, have you met Chandra Moore?" Gil asked calmly, attempting to deflect her rhetorical question. "She'll be doing DNA while Greg's in the field."

"Hello, I'm Catherine." The blonde greeted coolly, barely casting the affronted woman a glance before she affixed her gaze back on the boss. "We need to talk."

"Well, not now – too much work." He smiled, putting on his glasses and picking up a stack of files. "You have a suspicious death at the Palermo."

Without tearing her fierce eyes from his unfazed smirk, she snatched the folder from his hands and held it up towards his face, before thinking better of continuing her rant. Turning on her heel, she stormed away from him, almost mowing down the rest of the team on her way out of the door.

"Warrick," Gil continued upon seeing the dark-skinned CSI. "Trash call at a weekly at Freemont and 12th."

"Excellent." He nodded glumly, taking the folder.

"Nick, Sara, body in a shallow grave – dry lake bed, in Ely, off Groom Lake Road."

Nick accepted the assignment with a grin.

"Alright." He nodded eagerly, turning to his partner for the night and giving her a gentle punch on the arm. "I'll meet you there?"

She nodded, slinking towards the door, but not actually going through it.

"Greg, you're going to be with me." Grissom continued, raising an eyebrow pointedly at the young man. "Your final proficiency."

"Great." He rolled his eyes, turning back to Chandra. "Let me show you your new digs."

As they left, with Warrick offering good luck to Greg on his way out, Sara emerged from the shadows by the door. Grissom did a double take, having not realised that she was still there.

"Can I talk to you real quick?" She asked hopefully.

"Certainly." He took off his glasses and fixed her with a studious look. "Have you been seeing your PEAP counsellor?"

Sara pursed her lips and nodded curtly.

"Yeah."

"How's it going?" He pressed, concern clouding his features.

"Well, it's been interesting." She paused, taking a moment to gather her nerve. Unfortunately it proved to be a moment too long, as a crash from the DNA lab silenced the rest of her sentence. They both peered out to see Greg raise his hands sheepishly in their direction.

Sara shot Grissom a despondent smile.

"It's going to be a busy night, huh?" She sighed. "We'll talk later."

"Are you sure?" He took a step towards her and she instinctively backed away, almost walking into the doorframe.

"Yeah, yeah." She nodded eagerly, feeling the growing weight in her stomach lurch. Glancing down, she found her hands were shaking and clenched them into fists as she scampered out of the office before he could entice her back.

Next time. She would definitely tell him next time.

* * *

The music pulsed around her and the dim lights hanging above the bar cast tall, dancing shadows on the deep-coloured walls.

Passing the barman, she waved at the handsome young man to get his attention. Recognising her from earlier, he pointed mutely to the back room.

Chris' office was tucked around the corner, private enough to keep the customers away but close enough that he could keep a watchful eye on the bar. As she opened the door, she caught the sound of a woman's giggle from inside the room; however, even that didn't prepare her for the sight that awaited her.

It was her gasp of surprise that pulled them apart, and Chris looked past his partner towards Catherine with wide eyes. For a long moment, they just stared.

Finally, Chris offered a small shrug.

"What do you expect?" He asked half-heartedly. "I run a nightclub."

She opened her mouth to speak, to shout, to offer any kind of rebuttal to his pathetic excuse; but the words died on her lips.

Shaking her head in loss, she turned around and walked out, letting the door swing shut behind her.

As she weaved her way through the bar, she was acutely aware of the barman's eyes following her and somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered whether he had known what he was sending her in to.

But she didn't stop to ask. She just kept walking. Outside, she kept on walking straight past her car. She wouldn't be needing it today. Not with what she had in mind for the rest of the morning.

* * *

The sound of glass smashing stopped him in his tracks. Spinning towards the source of the sound, he caught sight of Chandra stomping out of the DNA lab.

"Oh, I can't go through with this!" She growled to herself.

"Hey, Chandra!" He called, catching up to her before she could disappear down the hallway. "How was your first day?"

She turned to face him. Contrary to earlier, when she had appeared composed and professional, her hair was now a frizzy mess and her face was blotchy and flushed.

"I can't do this!" She huffed, tearing her lab coat off and practically throwing it at Greg. "It's too much for one person. They all want ... they all want you, and I can't be you."

As she disappeared down the hall, Greg's shoulders slumped. It had been a bad enough day, he did not need this right now.

Lifting his head, he spotted Warrick and Nick watching from a nearby lab. Wordlessly, Warrick handed a bill to Nick and offered the downcast ex-lab rat a heartless shrug. Greg pursed his lips, nodding in understanding, and dropped his gaze back to the floor.

He had been given one more chance to achieve his proficiency – on that simple basis that he had found a suitable replacement for the DNA lab. That replacement had now quit.

Which meant that someone really did have it in for him today.

* * *

Downing the last of her drink, she slid a few dollars across the bar as a tip and hopped off her stool. Taking a minute to steady herself, she gathered her bearings and began making her way slowly towards the exit.

As tempting as it was to sit here all morning and drink herself into oblivion, it was not going to solve any of her problems.

As she weaved her way through the tables, keeping her head ducked in an effort to make herself feel invisible, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. Her vision was a bit blurry and her head felt fuzzy, but she was certain that she wasn't imagining it.

In a quiet corner, their heads bowed together in deep conversation, were Sara Sidle and another woman.

Without getting closer, it was difficult to be certain; but Catherine was sure she recognised the other woman from somewhere. For a moment, she considered going over and introducing herself; but they seemed engrossed in their discussion and she was in no mood for polite small talk anyway.

Putting her natural curiosity to bed for a while, she slipped out of the door into the stifling, airless morning.


	2. Down the Drain

**Thanks for all the reviews so far guys :)**

* * *

Catherine glanced up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Hey Warrick," she cleared her throat nervously. "Can we talk? About what happened between us today ..."

He emitted a soft laugh, turning his emerald orbs towards the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, that ...that was almost something." He acknowledged. "Cath, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to put you in that position."

"What position would that be?" She asked with a cocky smirk, making his cheeks flush as he recalled the memory of her body falling into his arms and her warmth seeping into him as he held her tightly against his chest.

"Let's just be thankful that guy interrupted when he did." Warrick continued, making Catherine's heart sink a little. "Otherwise who knows what might have happened."

Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she finally met his gaze across the table.

"There's always been something between us." She noted softly, letting a hint of vulnerability creep into her voice.

"Hey," he frowned, realising that their moment in the storm drain had had a bigger impact on her than he'd first thought. "You know I'd never let anything like that happen, right? I mean, I _know_ we're just friends."

Whatever she had been intending to say in response to his earnest comments died on her lips, and she offered a weak smile to assuage his concerns.

"Right." She nodded, feeling her heart tighten in her chest. "As long as we're on the same page."

* * *

"I don't have a death wish and I'm not a drunk." She stated without being prompted, flicking her dark eyes towards his face. "In case you were worried."

"I'm not worried." Grissom shrugged. "I'm concerned."

Sara put down her magnifying glass and looked up with a scowl.

"Isn't that kind of the same thing?"

He shot her a small smile, silently conceding her point.

"We didn't really get chance to talk the other day." He continued. "How is your counselling going?"

She visibly stiffened, her barriers rocketing into place. She had told herself that, next time, she would tell him the truth; but she had been planning to initiate _that_ conversation herself. She was not prepared for this.

"It's fine." She cleared her throat. "It's good, in fact. Really good."

She had resumed her laborious searching of the door for blood drops, but she could still feel him staring intently at her across the lab.

Finally, he seemed to accept her answer with an abrupt nod.

"Good."

* * *

"Catherine?"

She froze, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. She had been so close!

Sucking in a calming breath, she turned slowly and plastered a smile on her face.

"Yes Gil?" She asked pleasantly.

"Do you have a minute?"

She was tempted to say no, to tell him that she was going home to have breakfast with her daughter and forget the humiliating mistake she had almost made today.

But before the words could materialise, she took a second to actually look at her boss. He looked nervous, and that alone unsettled her enough to draw her into the dingy depths of his office.

"Have a seat." He gestured anxiously towards the chair in front of his desk, but Cath declined the offer.

"What's going on, Gil?" She asked with more frustration in her voice than she'd intended.

He fidgeted, folding and unfolding his glasses where they sat before him on the desk.

"It's about Sara."

Her curiosity peaked; Cath slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite him and raised an eyebrow.

"What about Sara?"

"She's had some issues recently. She's been seeing the office shrink for the last few weeks."

"Okay..." Cath drawled. She had been intrigued at first, but now she was starting to worry that he was building to something more serious than she'd initially anticipated.

"She ... she was picked up recently for drink driving – they didn't charge her!" He added hurriedly at Catherine's startled look.

"When was this?" She demanded, sitting forward.

"About two months ago." He shifted in his seat, beginning to question whether he was doing the right thing by sharing this with someone else. "She was only just over the limit, so they let her off with a warning on the proviso that she had some sessions with a PEAP counsellor."

"Grissom," she licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. "If Sara has a drinking problem..."

"She doesn't." He interrupted before she could finish the thought. "She's just ... struggling."

Catherine sat back in her chair and let her mind run through everything she had just been told for a moment.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked at last, her blue eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Because I'm worried about her, but I can't watch her all the time."

"And ... you want me to watch her for you?" She clarified.

"I want you to keep an eye on her." He paraphrased slightly. "She nearly got herself and Warrick blown up today and she doesn't seem at all bothered."

Cath nodded, pursing her lips. She had heard about that, and she had to admit that it had not come as a surprise. Sara had always been a bit of a loose cannon at times.

"Okay." She agreed, throwing her hands out. "I'll do my best. But you know that she's not going to take kindly to being babysat."

"I'm not asking you to babysit her, just look out for her." He insisted. "And Catherine ... please don't mention this to anyone else; including Sara. I don't want her to knowing that I've told you."

"Alright." She exhaled, standing up. "But I hope you know what you're doing, for her sake as well as yours."

"I do." He asserted, putting on his glasses to resume his work and essentially ending the conversation.

As Catherine stalked out of the office, her head reeling with this new information, the memory of a few days ago suddenly flooded back to her – the memory of finding Sara in a bar at eight o'clock in the morning – and she winced.

She tried to remember whether there had been a bottle or a glass in front of her, but the image was too blurry.

She had had a few drinks herself, but she still recalled the look on Sara's face. Concern, or sadness; perhaps. And the woman she was with, the woman who Catherine still hadn't managed to place, was holding her hands across the table, offering comfort.

She hadn't thought about that woman since leaving the bar; but now she was, it irritated her that she couldn't work out where she knew her from. The more she tried to picture her face, the more familiar she became. She was tall, with flame red hair that spiralled out in unruly ringlets. She was pretty enough, but had stern features. And something about the way in which she had been staring so intently into Sara's eyes made a knot start to form in the pit of Catherine's stomach.

Maybe Gil was right, and there was something going on in Sara's life that they needed to be worried about.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to keep a closer eye on her young colleague.


	3. Harvest

As the door swung shut, she pressed her clasped hands to her lips and watched her young daughter stalk down the corridor.

All the way to the police station she had been telling herself to be calm, not to lose her temper. And then the officer had uttered that word – _hitchhiking_. Her twelve-year-old daughter was hitchhiking.

In her line of work, that kind of behaviour only had one result: murder.

And, because the world was determined to show her just how much of an irresponsible mother she was, there was a child of the same age missing in Las Vegas ... and time was fast running out for her.

She stood up, stretching, and ran a hand through her red locks.

Her daughter was in turmoil; which means her mother would inevitably be gloating and her sister would no doubt have enough words of wisdom to write a gospel. But for now, there was a little girl who needed her help even more than her wayward child.

Her own family were just going to have to wait, like always.

* * *

"I bet you were a pretty smart seventh-grader."

The compliment drew a small smile to her lips, but she let it slide without comment.

In truth, seventh grade was around the time that her life her gone to hell in a handbasket. No amount of smarts in the world had prepared her for the upheaval she had endured when she was Alicia Perez' age.

Shaking away the memory and turning her attention to Alicia's notebooks, she found one name scrawled repeatedly in childish girly handwriting.

"She has a serious crush on a boy named Jimmy Jones." She noted.

Ignoring her, Grissom had found his own doodlings and showed her the jagged writing on the edge of the bed sheets.

"I hate mom and dad?" He questioned curiously.

"Who doesn't once in a while?" A gentile voice enquired softly from the doorway. A young man, barely even an adult, was loitering in the doorway. Despite his gaunt face and sunken features, he had a pleasant, calm expression. "Daniel Perez, and you are?"

Sara heard Grissom introduce them both and explain their presence in the missing child's bedroom, but her attention was affixed on the boy's face. He looked haunted, ill ... and yet eerily at peace with his sister's disappearance.

A knot started to form in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what had caused it.

* * *

She rolled onto her back, throwing the covers off with a disgruntled huff. Beside her, the clock ticked in a tormenting rhythm, a reminder of every individual second that she hadn't slept.

She just couldn't get that little girl's face out of her mind. Tiny, pale, cold ... and the more she focused on it, the more the features began to look like someone else; someone more familiar.

Alicia Perez had been snatched from the safety of her sister's car, in broad daylight. Meanwhile, her own child, her baby girl, had deliberately put herself in danger.

She simply couldn't shake the thought that it could have been Lindsey found lying in the desert, with only a thin blanket protecting her body from being ravished by nature.

Deciding that she was wasting her time trying to sleep, she threw her legs out of the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of waiting slippers.

If she couldn't rest, and Lindsey wouldn't talk to her, then she may as well do something useful and go back to work.

* * *

Sara rocked back, letting her head rest against the cold metal of the lockers.

It was always tough when kids were involved – even for the childless, family-phobic workaholics like herself – and today had been particularly difficult.

A mother oblivious to how she was causing her own family to fall apart, a father dragged down by the spiralling madness around him, a delinquent sister thrown out before she finished high school, a big brother putting his own needs above everything else ... and a little girl, used and abused, and then cast aside like a broken toy.

It was all just a little bit too close to home.

The sound of heels approaching interrupted her exercise in self-loathing; but she remained where she was, on the floor with her back against the lockers.

Catherine paused in the doorway, casting a puzzled glance over Sara, before deciding not to question her position. She moved wordlessly to her locker and began rummaging through her bag, as if the brunette were not even there.

Sara lifted her gaze cautiously, watching the older woman from beneath her lashes for a moment before breaking the silence.

"I heard what happened with Lindsey. Is she okay?"

Visibly tensing, Cath squared her shoulders but kept her back to her colleague.

"She's fine."

"I'm sure it's just a phase. All kids need to lash out sometimes." Sara continued, attempting to offer some form of comfort, however feeble. Unfortunately, her attempt fell flat and Cath whirled to face her with a stony expression.

"Know what Sara, I've had all the parenting advice I need today and I certainly don't want any from you!"

Without giving the startled young woman an opportunity to respond, she slammed her locked shut with a sharp clang and stormed out of the room.

Coming to an abrupt stop a few feet down the hall, she considered turning back and apologising. It wasn't Sara's fault that she was having a bad day, or that her parenting had been called into question.

However, when she turned back towards the locker room, she saw that someone had already beaten her to it.

The woman was tall even without heels and had tight red curls that sprung out in all directions. She was leaning against the locker room doorframe, obviously talking to Sara.

Making a mental note to apologise to the brunette later, and knowing in the back of her mind that she probably wouldn't, Cath turned and walked away without giving the matter a second thought.

* * *

Almost as soon as Catherine had left, another shadow fell into the room and a gentle voice spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

Sara looked up and a relieved smile graced her lips.

"I'm fine." She lied. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew you were working on the case with the missing girl." Belinda explained, coming into the room and taking a seat on the bench, straddling Sara's legs with her boot-clad feet. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm okay." Sara shrugged, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her knees. "It's always hard, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Belinda cast a quick glance into the hall to check that they were alone, before reaching down to take the other woman's hands between her own. "Come on, let's go for breakfast."

"Thanks." Sara smiled, attempting to pull her hands back and failing to escape Belinda's strong grip. "But I'm not very hungry."

However, the red-head didn't accept the answer. Furrowing her brow, she cast a concern glance over her friend.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

Sara smiled, not bothering to dignify the question with an answer.

"I just want to go home and pretend to sleep." She said, almost pleading.

Belinda pretended to consider this, before a cheeky smile spread across her ruby-red lips and she stood up, pulling Sara to her feet as well.

"Okay," she stepped closer, pinning Sara against the lockers with her body. "But afterwards, we go for breakfast?"


	4. Crows Feet

She paused, her gaze locking onto her own reflection in the mirror.

The harsh lighting and clinical white walls were not flattering by any means, but the evidence was undeniable.

Catherine had always prided herself on her looks, even as the years kept creeping past. But when she actually stopped to study her features, she realised what a toll the last few months had taken on her beauty. Her eyes were sunken and hazy; her skin pale from lack of sunlight.

For the first time in her life, she felt old; and she looked it too.

* * *

He slipped the burger into her line of sight with a coy smile and waited for her to notice it.

"It's veggie." He promised when she raised a sceptical eyebrow. Satisfied, she accepted the snack with a nod.

"Thanks." She smiled, placing a folder in front of Greg as he took a seat beside her. "Here, take a look at that."

"What is it?" He asked, turning to the first page and scanning the information hurriedly.

"It's the victim's phone records." She explained, taking a bite of her burger.

Greg narrowed his eyes, studying the list more closely.

"What's this number?" He asked, pointing at a recurring set of digits. Sara smiled, pleased at her protégé's attention to detail. Instead of answering, she nudged a cell phone towards him.

Getting the hint, he took it and dialled the number.

" _You have reached the voicemail of Catholic Charities of Southern Nevada. We are currently unable to take your call. Please leave a message or call back after 8am_."

"Okay." He hung up and snatched one of her fries. "So, why was our atheist, openly gay victim being called by a Catholic charity group?"

"What do you think?" She pressed.

"Maybe he was planning a conversion?" He theorised. "Or they were trying to convert him, and failing?"

"Very good." She beamed, shutting the folder and standing up. "Let's go."

He follow suite, eagerly gathering his things together. On their way out, he paused in the doorway and turned to his companion with a scowl.

"You already knew all of this." He realised.

"Yeah, but I needed to see whether you could figure it out yourself." She smiled, holding out the rest of her fries for him to finish on the drive. "And you did."

"So, I'm making the grade?" He asked with a teasing nudge of her shoulder, drawing a playful smile onto her lips.

"So far."

"Hey!" A sharp voice called from behind, interrupting their mild flirting. They turned in unison, both alarmed to find Catherine stalking towards them. "Do you have my DNA results yet?"

The question was directed solely at Greg, as if Sara were not even stood there.

"Uh, no." Greg laughed nervously. "Mia's in DNA today."

"I know, but I gave it to you." The CSI insisted bluntly.

"Greg's helping me in the field today." Sara interjected carefully on his behalf. "Grissom wants him to get some experience in before his final proficiency."

Barely even sparing the brunette a glance, and continuing to act as if she hadn't spoken, Cath affixed Greg with a firm stare.

"Just get it done, I need those results ASAP."

Watching her disappear back down the hall, dispersing a crowd of startled lab techs en route, Greg shook his head in dismay.

"What did I do?"

Sara placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Don't worry about it. Grissom put you in the field today, and we have the ever charitable Catholic Church to interview."

His cheerful demeanour soon returning, Greg nodded in agreement; but not before taking an indulgent moment to lean into her consoling touch.

* * *

"Oi!"

Catherine jumped, her astonished gaze falling towards her sister's irate scowl.

"What?"

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Nancy demanded.

"I have," Cath lied, taking a sip of her coffee. "You were talking about Jeremy."

"I was talking about Jeremy's karate coach." Nancy corrected. "You need a hearing aid there, grandma?"

The younger sibling chuckled at her own joke; but Catherine didn't take it quite so well.

Unexpectedly, she lifted her head with a wide-eyed look of insult.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"What?" Nancy echoed her own earlier question.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing, it was a joke!" Nancy explained. "What's wrong with you?"

Catherine bit her lower lip, realising that she had jumped the gun and resisting the urge to answer back.

"Nothing, forget about it."

Nancy stared at her for a long minute.

"Alright, come on." She sighed. "Out with it."

"What?"

"Well, something's bunched your undies." Nancy sighed. "So, what is it?"

"Nothing." Cath insisted sulkily, rocking back in her chair. "I'm fine."

"You're in a mood."

"I am not! I've just had a bad day."

"Hmm," Nancy agreed. "You seem to be having a few of those recently."

"What?"

Nancy pushed her coffee mug aside and leant forward, holding her sister's gaze.

"I babysit your daughter for you at least twice a week. Do you think she doesn't tell me what's going on?"

Catherine rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh, this should be good." She laughed. "Go on then, what's she told you?"

"That you've been a grumpy bitch lately."

Catherine spluttered, choking on her own breath.

"I sincerely hope you're paraphrasing!"

Nancy shrugged, not committing herself to an answer that may get her niece grounded.

"Regardless, she said that you don't talk to her lately."

"I don't talk to her?" Cath scowled. "She's barely said ten words to me all week."

"Maybe that's because you've barely spent ten minutes with her all week."

"You're starting to sound like mom."

"And you're turning into her." Nancy raised an eyebrow. "You're the grownup, Cathy. You have to fix it."

Catherine stared at her little sister for a moment, before dropping sullenly back against her chair.

"You know what, I'm going to stop inviting you round for coffee."

* * *

Sara closed her eyes against the blazing morning sun, sloping her way across the parking lot towards her car.

"Hey." A voice trilled with a mix of happiness and suspicion. "I thought you were never going to leave."

Sara looked around, seeking out the source of the accusation.

"It's been a busy shift." She frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." Belinda shrugged, ambling over and slotting herself between Sara and the car. "I saw you leaving earlier today, with Greg?"

"Yeah, I'm training him in the field." Sara explained, cocking her head to the side. "What of it?"

"Nothing." Belinda shrugged again, pursing her lips and reaching out to toy with Sara's scarf. "There just didn't seem to be a lot of 'training' going on."

Sara laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

"You're not serious?"

"He likes you, Sara." Belinda stated sternly. "He's really into you."

"Well, yeah, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that!"

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew!" Sara laughed. "He's been asking me out for five years!"

"And you don't have a problem with this?" Belinda asked incredulously.

"It's Greg, Bel." Sara chuckled. "He's like a puppy. He's harmless."

"Yeah, well, I hope so." The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I still don't think you should be encouraging him though."

"Why, you worried that he might steal me away to some tropical island?" Sara teased playfully.

"No." Belinda pouted, leaning in to Sara's ear. "I'm worried about you, though. I don't want to lose you."

For a few seconds, they remained in that position, with Belinda's hot breath raising the soft hairs on the back of Sara's neck. Finally, a devious smile spread across Sara's lips.

"Well," she reached past her girlfriend to open the car door, effectively moving Belinda out of the way. "You'll just have to work harder to keep me interested then, won't you?"


	5. Swap Meet

**Happy New Year everyone! I hope 2016 brings you all health, happiness and love!**

* * *

"Everybody fantasizes about other people." Erin Brady leant forward, her hypnotic gaze latching onto his baby blue eyes. "Even you, _Mr Grissom_. A neighbour, a friend ... girl at the office?"

Gil's eye twitched, a noticeable tell. Brass cleared his throat pointedly.

"Thank you, Mrs Brady." The detective smiled. "I think we have everything we need for now."

She grinned, satisfied that she had rattled at least one of the males. Unfortunately for her, she didn't get to enjoy the results of her mind games for too long, as Gil was on his feet and out of the door before the tape even stopped rolling.

In the corridor outside the interrogation rooms, and now armed with two steaming cups of tea, Grissom spotted Sara sat on the bench and approached her cautiously.

"Thank you," she mumbled absently, accepting the drink he offered and stirring it with a pensive expression.

When she continued to ignore his presence, he cleared his throat

"I know I'm supposed to be objective ..." She mused softly. "But I think I have a problem with the lifestyle."

Grissom cocked his head to the side and hummed.

"Well, they're consenting adults, it's not illegal. At most, they only hurt themselves."

"Tell that to Vanessa Keaton." Sara countered, taking her frustrations out on the teabag in her drink. "Everyone has a jealousy gene."

"You think it was a crime of passion?" Gil quirked an eyebrow, as if the idea hadn't even occurred to him.

"Yeah." She nodded, pursing her lips. "When you have to go outside a marriage for passion, you're in trouble. And you're asking for trouble."

Gil looked over to the Brady couple, embracing in the hallway. In another setting, they would have looked like any loved-up couple; loyal and utterly devoted to each other.

"Well, they say they're happily married."

Sara lifted her gaze, meeting his eye for the first time since he had sat down.

"You think they're happy?"

The question was almost rhetorical, but the look of unbridled sadness in her bottomless hazel orbs prevented him from being able to offer an answer anyway.

* * *

Grissom tried to ignore the footsteps falling in sync with his own as he entered his office and approached the desk, his book still open in his hands. However, the footsteps followed him, only coming to a stop on the other side of the table as he sank into his chair.

"I know that you got the memo, I'm not sure that you read it." Catherine began exasperatedly, and Grissom felt his stomach sink at the knowing realisation that he was about to be lectured. "Ecklie is being promoted to Assistant Director. They are taking applications for his supervisor spot on days. I want it."

Slowly, he placed his book down and folded his hands on top of it, but neglected to offer a verbal response.

"What?" Cath raised an eyebrow impatiently. "You want the day spot for yourself? You're worried about giving me a good A.P. score and breaking up the team? Or maybe you just think that I'm incapable of the position? Not worthy of the promotion? Is that it?" Rolling her eyes, she dropped into the chair opposite him and scoffed. "I'm just always, always defending myself to you. I'm unbelievable. I have a daughter who is so starved for my attention, she is thumbing rides to Fremont Street to see her grandfather – the last person I want her around. I mean, not that it's much better with my mother, who sees Lindsay much more often than I do."

Realising that things were getting too much for Catherine, Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but she continued before he could form a single word.

"I am missing out on my daughter's life. I have no life of my own. Would you just stop me and say something here?" She begged despondently.

Taking off his glasses and folding them carefully, before placing them on the desk, Gil sat forward and met her watery gaze.

"You want the job because you're worried about Lindsay?"

"That's part of it, but ..." Catherine trailed off, throwing her hands out. She'd had a whole speech planned out in her head but, as per usual, her mouth had taken over and now she couldn't think straight.

"The position calls for leadership, Catherine. You have to inspire others, solve problems, which means you have to leave your own problems at home."

"I want the job because I can do it. I'm qualified, I'm motivated and I'm ready, Gil. You know that I am."

"I do." He agreed. "Which is why I already sent in your A.P. I gave you 100%. I even put in a good word with the Director. The rest is up to you. And ... I hope you get it."

Not waiting for her thanks, or an apology, he slipped his glasses back on and pretended to resume his reading.

"Thank you." Catherine mumbled, attempting to dab at her eye without making it obvious that she was tearing up. When he didn't acknowledge her appreciation, she stood up and sloped back out feeling shamefaced.

Unseen by her, he lowered his book and watched her walk away with a sad sigh.

The truth was, he didn't want her to go. He needed her and the team would probably fall apart without her guiding hand. But he also wanted her to be successful, and he had no doubt that she was perfectly capable of running her own team.

She'd been running his for years.

* * *

"So," Greg shot her a look. "Have you ever been to one of these parties?"

Sara looked up and blinked.

"Me?" She asked. "Have I ever been to a swingers party? Are you kidding?"

"Well, you never know." He shrugged, his sweet smile dissolving her offended glower. "I mean, Harvard ... Berkley. I bet you've had some wild nights..."

A smile started to creep onto her face, but she fought it back by sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

"Maybe."

"Oh yeah?" He raised a playful eyebrow. "Care to share?"

"Not really."

"Well, variety is a good thing." He surmised when it became clear that she wasn't going to give anything up. "And if you get the right group of people together, a couple of drinks ..."

Sara laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"If you're thinking about throwing a grave shift swingers party, strike me from the guest list please." She mocked. "There are certain people on our team that I don't need to see in that situation."

Not one to be beaten down, Greg smirked.

"If you'd prefer, I could strike Grissom from the list?"

She elected to ignore the comment, although she couldn't ignore the knot in her stomach tightening at the insinuation.

She knew that there were rumours floating around regarding herself and her socially inept boss. Some of them were true, most were not. But it was not those rumours she was worried about.

It was the ones that would undoubtedly appear once her relationship with Belinda became public knowledge. That's what really scared her. And if her recent argument with Bel was anything to go by, that day could be sooner rather than later.

* * *

"Catherine?"

Cath froze, wincing.

"Hi mom." She called back, sucking in a lungful of air in preparation for the impending rant.

Sure enough, Lily's head popped around the door frame and the older woman checked her watch pointedly.

"You're late."

"Yeah, I know." Catherine sighed, sloping past her mother into the lounge. "I got held up with paperwork."

"Paperwork." Lily laughed bitterly. "That's what was so urgent that you missed breakfast with your daughter?"

"Mom, don't..."

"Don't what?" Lily snapped before she could finish. "Don't point out the obvious – that you put work ahead of your own child?"

Catherine threw her head back and groaned weakly. She had hoped that her ever-present babysitter would be gone by the time she got home, so she could just curl up in bed and forget the last shift.

Unfortunately, it was not to be.

"Lindsey is the most important thing in my life, you know that." She insisted, squeezing her eyes tight closed against the headache starting to form in her temple.

"Then maybe you should start showing her that!" Lily countered. "Catherine, if your work is going to keep taking you away from her like this, then you need to do something about your scheduling..."

"For your information, I am doing something about it!" Cath snapped. "I've applied for a position on the dayshift team."

"You're changing teams?" Lily frowned, slightly taken aback by the outburst. "But you love your colleagues."

"Yeah, I do." She sighed, sinking onto the couch. "Of course I do, but Lindsey _has_ to come first. And if I get the dayshift spot, I'll be able to work normal hours, and actually be here when she gets up on a morning."

"I see." Lily hummed thoughtfully. "And you think that making yourself unhappy is the way to fix things with your daughter?"

Catherine lifted her head and stared at her mother in dismay.

"What do you want from me, mom?" She begged. "I'm trying here, but even that's not enough for you is it?"

Lily held her pleading gaze with an unwavering stare of her own.

"I want you to do what's right for both of you, Cathy." She lectured gently. "There's something missing in your life, something that's making you sad. And until you work out what it is and how to get it, you'll just keep burying yourself in work. Changing shifts won't make a difference, unless you find a way to fill that hole in your life."

The assassination on her quality of life stunned Catherine into silence for a moment. Finally, she offered a weary shrug.

"Any suggestions, Yoda?"

"I can't answer that question, Catherine." Lily stooped down to pick up her handbag from the coffee table and hooked it over her shoulder. "Only you know what it is that you need to be happy."


	6. Formalities

**Some of you have probably noticed that the chapter titles and the chapters relate to season 5 episodes. There will be some episodes missing, which don't fit into the plot of my story and eventually it will stop following the canon episodes all together.**

 **Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing!**

* * *

" _You can't be serious, Sara!" Belinda exploded. "Do you have any idea what's at stake here?"_

" _Yes, I do!" She retorted. "But I can't do this anymore; I can't keep sneaking around like I'm doing something wrong."_

" _We_ are _doing something wrong, Sara!" Belinda grabbed both her wrists tightly. "I could lose my job!"_

" _I know." Sara weakened, attempting to pull away and quickly giving up. "I just don't want to hide anymore. You know the whole point of me seeing you in the first place was to help me come out from the dark, not go back in."_

 _Belinda's expression softened and she released Sara's arms, dragging a hand through her wild red curls._

" _I know, I'm sorry." She sighed. "And I want to help you, I really do. But ..."_

" _What?" Sara pressed when she neglected to finish the thought._

" _Well, maybe you'd find it easier to get away from the darkness if you didn't work there."_

 _Sara rolled her eyes impatiently._

" _Not this again." She groaned. "Bel, I'm not quitting my job!"_

 _Will you just think about it for a minute?" The other woman pleaded earnestly. "A break from death and pain might be exactly what you need. And if you quit, we wouldn't need to keep hiding – we could be together, properly."_

" _So, you want me to leave my job – the only thing that keeps me going – so we can be together without_ you _losing_ your _job?"_

" _It makes sense."_

" _No, it doesn't."_

" _I thought you wanted this, Sara."_

" _Bel, please." Sara begged softly, averting her eyes. "Don't make me choose between you and my work."_

 _Belinda stared intently at her for a moment; so long that Sara lifted her head and met her gaze. When the nurse spoke up again, her voice was cold and detached._

" _It sounds like you already have."_

 _Sara didn't respond, but she didn't look away either. For a moment, neither moved a muscle. Finally, Belinda grabbed her bag and stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her._

Sara exhaled slowly, trying to shake away the memory of the fight.

Her phone, sat beside her on the bench, vibrated quietly and caught her eye.

Sara glanced at the name flashing on the screen and pointedly turned it over so she couldn't see it anymore.

Subtlety lifting her eyes, she checked that her companion hadn't noticed; but Catherine was too engrossed in her work to pay any attention to Sara.

"So, I heard you applied for the day shift spot?" She cleared her throat, offering a meek attempt at small-talk.

Cath flicked her cold blue eyes up, narrowing them suspiciously at Sara across the table. The brunette almost flinched at the harsh look.

"Yeah, and?"

"Nothing." Sara shrugged with a small frown, reverting her attention back to her work. "It just won't be the same on the team if you leave."

Catherine lifted her head, staring at her younger colleague for a moment in an effort to ascertain whether she was serious.

"Right." She scowled eventually, when Sara's expression didn't give away any clues. "Okay."

As they resumed the uncomfortable silence, Sara finally picked up her phone and scanned the text message.

' _We need to talk asap. Call me'_

Abrupt, straight to the point. Much like Belinda herself, Sara mused with an internal sigh.

* * *

Sara took a few deeps breathes as she weaved her way through the corridor, psyching herself up for a difficult conversation.

However, once she eventually reached the office, her composure dissipated. Sofia Curtis, the beautiful blonde dayshift CSI that Gil had suddenly taken quite a shine to, was perched on his desk. Her head was flung back, her long tresses forming a golden waterfall down her back, as she laughed joyfully at something he had said.

A part of Sara wanted to interrupt. She had prepared herself for this, she wasn't about to back down again. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Turning around with a despondent frown, she left them to their private joke and headed back the way she had come.

However, her dismay quickly turned to hope as she spotted Catherine exiting the DNA lab.

The strawberry blonde wouldn't have been her first choice to confide in, or even her second, but she was next in command and that was good enough for now.

She would just have to edit her pre-prepared spiel a little.

"Hey, Cat?" Sara called, quickly chastising herself for using the forbidden nickname. "Have you got a minute?"

"Okay, but make it quick." The older woman instructed without sparing a glance from her DNA results.

"Um, can we go to your office?" Sara asked, her gaze flicking nervously around the busy corridor. "It's kind of private."

"Hey, Catherine?" Mandy leant out of the fingerprints lab and Cath's eyes lit up excitedly.

"You got a hit off those prints I gave you?"

"Yeah, and I think you're going to want to see this." Mandy said with a satisfied smile. "It's pretty good."

Cath, barely remembering Sara's presence, tapped the brunette's arm lightly with the folder in her hands.

"Hey, can we take a raincheck?" She asked, not sticking around long enough to hear Sara's answer.

"Yeah, sure." She exhaled sadly. "No problem."

* * *

He almost skated past the room, but something caught his eye and he ground to a halt.

"Hey," he greeted, sidling into the room and leaning against the doorframe. "Everything okay?"

Sara lifted her head and smiled.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Greg straightened up and moved cautiously towards her.

"You sure?" He pressed with a knowing raised eyebrow.

Sara smiled, dropping her gaze into her lap and twisting her hands anxiously.

"No," she sighed honestly. "I'm not sure."

Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat beside her and tentatively nudged her in the shoulder. Taking the hint, she nodded slowly.

"I just feel a bit stonewalled today. I tried to talk to Grissom earlier, but I can't seem to catch him without Sofia hanging round." She pouted miserably. "And so I tried Catherine, but she was in the middle of a hot case and didn't really have time to talk."

Greg cleared his throat softly.

"You know, I'm a good listener." He half-joked, offering a sweet grin. "And I just brought a new box of Blue Hawaiian coffee for my flat."

Sara laughed, nodding slowly.

"Thanks Greggo, I appreciate that. But I don't think this is something you can help me with."

"Okay." He said, the disappointment written all over his boyish features. "Well, you know where I am, if you change your mind."

As he stood up, leaving her to her thoughts, her phone began to vibrate against her hip with a new text message.

Greg was almost out of the door, when her soft voice called him back.

"Hey Greg," she lifted her head, her boundaries suddenly back in place behind a composed mask of indifference. "Forget the coffee. How about a drink instead?"


	7. Mea Culpa

Stretching, she closed her eyes against the sun and rolled her shoulders stiffly. Their drink after work had turned into a five-hour film marathon, with take-out pizza and a crate of beer. But it had been worth it, she felt much better for having off-loaded some of her problems to her best friend.

All she wanted to do now was crawl into bed and sleep until dusk.

Sloping down the grey-stoned corridor towards her apartment, she rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop.

"Belinda?" She blinked. "What are you doing here?"

Belinda pushed herself off the wall, where she had obviously been loitering for a while, and crossed her arms sullenly.

"I came to talk to you." She asserted. "Where have you been?"

Sara mumbled something incoherent, rummaging for her keys.

"I told you I didn't want to see you." She said at last, unlocking the door but not opening it. She didn't want her ex thinking that she was being invited inside.

Belinda stepped closer to her and extended a hand, then suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Have you been drinking?"

Sara recoiled out of her reach.

"What do you want, Bel?" She asked coldly.

"Sara, answer me." The woman insisted. "You've been to a bar?"

Sara laughed, an embittered laugh, as she ran a hand through her hair.

"No, I haven't – not that it's any of your business. I had a drink with Greg, at his flat, after work. Happy?"

"Greg?" Belinda's eyes widened, suggesting that she most definitely wasn't happy with the response. "You're seeing Greg?"

"No, I'm not _seeing_ Greg." Sara snapped. "He's a friend. I _needed_ a friend today, thanks to you."

"Sara, I'm worried about you! You're behaviour – it's erratic; you're spiralling." The red-head pleaded. "Let's just go inside and we can talk about this."

Sara moved herself in front of the door, blocking the handle. For a long few seconds, neither spoke.

When it became evident that she was not going to gain entry to Sara's flat any time soon, Belinda dropped her shoulders and hardened her features.

"Fine." She snapped, turning on her heel. A few feet down the hall, she stopped again and turned back to Sara with a final parting shot. "Let's see how long Greg sticks around when you start losing it again!"

* * *

"Hey. We gotta talk." Brass said breathlessly, jogging to catch up with Grissom's wide strides. "Ecklie's used his hot line to the Sheriff. The whole department knows about the inquiry."

"There's nothing I can do about that." Grissom shrugged nonchalantly, burying his hands in his pocket.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to give you a heads-up, 'cause here's how it's gonna break down: In order to appear objective, Ecklie's gonna follow Sofia's recommendations. The problem is, she's Acting Supervisor of days, so she needs Ecklie to sign off to keep her gig."

Gil came to a stop and finally looked at the detective thoughtfully.

"And you think she'll say whatever Ecklie wants."

"Yeah. And this isn't just about the Garbett case. He's looking into your whole team, and your ability to lead them." Brass warned with a knowing look. To his surprise, Grissom laughed.

"Poor Conrad."

"I hate to tell you, but when it comes to politics, he whips your ass. So watch your back; it's gonna get ugly."

"Thanks." He started to walk away, but Brass wasn't finished his warning yet.

"Gil," he waited for the CSI to turn around and face him. "If there's any loose threads you've left hanging, get them tied up before Ecklie finds them and uses them to choke you."

* * *

Sara smiled as Greg bounded off with the serial number, quietly thrilled at her protégé's enthusiasm.

"Excuse me."

She looked up at the soft words and her heart sank at the sight of Greg squeezing past Ecklie, who was stood in the doorway with a smirk.

"Sara." He greeted cheerfully. "You got a minute?"

"I guess." She agreed, since she had no valid reason to leave. He leant over her shoulder, watching her actions.

"Flitz's Compound." He noted, almost impressed. "I'm sure you're not polishing your jewellery in the lab; that would be unauthorised."

She smiled tightly at the bad joke.

"What can I do for you?"

Realising that he was not going to break down her suspicious barriers, he dropped the facade and got straight to the point.

"As you know, it's my job to review everyone's file. I just want to make sure you finished up with your PEAP Counsellor."

"That's none of your business, Ecklie." Sara asserted defensively, straightening up to her full height. His lips curled into a smile as he picked up on her obvious panic.

"Well, not only is it my business, but I plan to speak with your supervisor." He tried and failed to disguise the smugness in his voice. "You have updated him, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, we've had an abbreviated conversation." She lied. "I'm doing fine. Completed my required number of sessions a few weeks ago.

"Huh. Grissom failed to note that conversation in your file."

Sara held her breath, waiting. Finally, Ecklie lifted his head and smiled that Cheshire cat smile again.

"But don't worry, I'll take care of it. All right?" He offered. Pursing her lips, she nodded.

"Thanks."

Sensing that there was something she was holding back, he hovered for a second longer.

"Is there anything else that you would like to tell me?"

Sara chewed on her lower lip, considering the potential repercussions if she confessed her sins to the new lab director.

"No." She decided at last. "Nothing."

It was clear from his face that he didn't believe her; but with no evidence to refute her assertion, he shuffled back to his lair, satisfied that he had gotten the ammunition he needed.

Alone, Sara exhaled slowly, although it failed to relax the knot in her stomach.

* * *

Ecklie's office was the epitome of self-praise. Every certificate and commendation he had ever been given adorned the walls. Catherine would be that if she looked hard enough, she'd find his fifth-grade swimming certificate up here somewhere.

"This conversation is on the record. Part of the official inquiry into the Max Larson case.

"Understood." Catherine cleared her throat and folded her hands calmly in her lap.

"Five years ago, were you part of a team that processed a homicide at 2028 Boulevard Highway?" He confirmed, receiving a snarky response from the strawberry-blonde. "Specifically what tasks did Supervisor Grissom assign to you?

"Gil doesn't micro-manage. We know what needs to be done. I photo-documented the scene, I collected blood evidence, and I brought the charred newspaper to trace."

"In the analysis phase, did Grissom review your reports with you?"

"Are you asking if he performed a supervisory review?" Catherine faltered for the first time. "He must have. I'm sure he did."

Ecklie smiled a reptilian smile, his teeth bared. She knew he didn't believe her, but she held his gaze firmly.

"Are you doing all this for the sake of the lab or to indict Grissom?" She challenged.

"Catherine, there a number of talented CSIs, like yourself, who have put in to be supervisors. I just want to make sure the right people are in the right place." He deflected, hoping to turn the conversation around on her. It worked, and she took the bait.

"About my request - I really would like to supervise days."

"Right. You're a single mother. Better hours. And I bet you could use the extra cash." He shrugged.

"No, this promotion isn't about money." She frowned. Again, his teeth peered out from beneath his thin lips.

"Must be nice to be independently wealthy."

Too late, she realised what she had just said. Whether he had already known about the cheque from Sam, or whether he just suspected, was irrelevant. She had just confirmed it.

"We're done here, right?" She stood up, not sticking around long enough to hear his gleeful response.

* * *

The words reverberated in his head.

 _I'm breaking you guys up_

"Why are you doing this?" He has asked, begged. And Ecklie had offered some bull about mis-management. He had basically accused Gil of being corrupt, of allowing his team to cover up his mistakes. He had tried in vain to change the man's mind, but Conrad Ecklie was unwavering in his decision.

Catherine was moving to swing shift, and taking Warrick and Nick with her. Sofia was joining Sara and Greg on Grissom's team.

Suddenly, Jim's warning played back in his head. The detective had been right on the money – this had nothing to do with the Larson case, it was just an opportune chance to do what Ecklie had always wanted to do: break up Gil's precious team.

* * *

Sara stalled in the doorway, taken aback by the scene.

"Hey." She cleared her throat. Catherine looked up and smiled sadly.

"Hey."

"I hear congratulations are in order?" Sara said, although there was little joy in her voice.

"Yeah, I guess." Cath laughed, shaking her head. She started to say something, but was cut off by her cell phone.

Sara turned to her locker to give her some privacy while she took the call. After a moment, she heard the older woman hang up and groan tiredly.

"Something wrong?"

"No," Cath sighed. "Just my first callout as the new Swing Shift Supervisor. I suppose I'd better call the boys back here. Guess I'll have to get used to ruining their day, huh?" She smiled weakly. "I'll see you around, Sara."

"Yeah," Sara exhaled sadly. "See you around."

Admittedly, she and Catherine had never exactly been close; but she still couldn't help but notice that the room felt that bit more empty than usual with the blonde's departure.


	8. No Humans Involved

It was the first time they had spoken since the shift changes. It had only been one week, but the distance between them was palpable.

"I'm sorry, Gil." Catherine offered, although it did little to ease the discomfort in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay." He shrugged morosely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid spiral around it like a tiny tsunami. "It's my own fault."

"No, this was going to happen regardless of what you did – Ecklie made sure of that." She paused, considering something for a minute. "I must admit, I underestimated Sofia. I thought she'd pander to him."

"Sofia's a good CSI." He mused softly, a frown marring his tired features.

Cath didn't offer an opinion on the blonde. Sofia may not have shopped the team to Ecklie, but that didn't mean they had to trust her.

"You're a good supervisor, Gil." She insisted instead. "You don't deserve this."

"I've dropped the ball on a lot of things." He sighed, sitting back in his seat. "Warrick's gambling, Nick's career ambitions, Sara..."

He trailed off, his attention fading to somewhere only he could see.

"Hey," she sat forward suddenly, her eyes narrowing in thought. "About Sara. How's she doing, with her counselling and everything?"

"She says everything's fine." He shrugged, shaking away whatever memory had temporarily engrossed him. "But we haven't really talked about it. That was one of the reasons Ecklie gave for doing this – because I didn't update her file."

Catherine exhaled. She couldn't deny that something like that would have raised eyebrows.

"Well, these things can get missed." She said diplomatically. "I'm sure Sara would have come to you if there was anything she needed you to know."

"Yeah." He sighed, not quite believing the assertion. "Yeah, she would."

* * *

Her hands stilled over the keyboard, waiting with baited breath for the boys to pass. She had deliberately left the lights off, in the hope that nobody would notice her lurking in the computer lab long after her shift had finished.

It worked, and they remained oblivious to her presence as they swept passed the door. She half-smiled at the sight of Greg nestled between Nick and Warrick. It was nice that they were still hanging out, despite the shift changes.

She exhaled with relief and was about to go back to her search, when another figure caught her eye and she froze again.

* * *

Catherine watched the boys walk away, her shoulders sagging. Apparently, now that she was the boss lady, she was no longer invited to after-shift drinks.

She was sure the boys didn't mean to exclude her, but it stung non-the-less.

Gil had already gone home, but she had already chewed his ear off once today. Besides, as much as she loved the man dearly, his bad mood probably wouldn't do much to improve her own right now.

She could go to Brass, but somehow the aging detective's company wasn't appealing to her today.

Turning back towards her office, she was surprised to spot movement in the lab behind her. The lights were off, so she had assumed it was empty; but now that she looked closely, she could see someone leaning against a desk in the middle of the room.

Peering closer, she realised that there were actually two people, not one, in the darkened lab and she recognised one of them.

Sara was sat at the computer, and the neat row of empty coffee cups beside her suggested she'd been there for a while. The other person, a woman, remained shrouded in shadow; but Catherine could see from her vantage point that she was tall with curly hair and she was leaning down towards Sara, trapping the young brunette in her seat.

Realising that it was a little strange for her to be loitering in the hallway, spying on her colleagues from a distance, Catherine resigned herself to the fact that she would be going home alone and turned towards the locker room; but something about the scene in the lab bothered her and she turned around again.

The other woman had vanished, leaving Sara alone in the dark room. She was still sat in front of the computer, but her head was bowed, the bright blue screen illuminating the side of her face and causing the faint tear tracks on her cheek to glisten like shooting stars.

* * *

Belinda ducked behind the pillar, waiting until the soft footsteps passed. Peering out, she watched with a sad frown as Sara got in her car. For several minutes, her ex didn't start the engine. She just sat, staring blankly out of the windscreen into the morning sun.

Their conversation had been tense, and she knew she had upset the girl with her parting shot; but it needed to be said. Sara was falling apart again, and if she couldn't see it herself, then she needed someone else to point it out – if only she had been willing to listen.

Instead, she had dug her heels in and set her jaw, and told Belinda to stay out of her life. As if she could.

Finally, the headlights lit up and the engine growled, and Sara swung out of her space. At the end of the parking lot, she seemed to hesitate for a second again, before turning left.

Belinda had been to Sara's flat enough times to know that she was not going home. Turning left out of here meant she was going towards the centre of the city.

She was heading towards the Strip – to a bar.

Shaking her head in despair, Belinda ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry, Sara." She sighed to herself. "You're making me do this."

* * *

She continued to stir her coffee absently, although it had long-since gone cold. She wasn't sure exactly how long she'd been stood, staring blankly into her garden, because she wasn't seeing any of it anyway.

She was still stood in that hallway, watching Sara cry in the darkness. She had wanted to go in, to see if she was okay, to give her a hug. But she hadn't; despite every maternal instinct in her body screaming at her to do something, she had walked away.

And now she couldn't get that haunting image out of her head.

* * *

Belinda sucked in a deep breath, attempting to compose herself. Raising a shaking hand, she rapped lightly on the door and entered at the blunt greeting.

She was not normally one to suffer nerves, but the butterflies in her stomach were doing somersaults at the prospect of what she was about to do.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she began tentatively. "But there's something I think you need to know about one of your CSIs – Sara Sidle."


	9. Snakes

As she approached the office, she could see him busily working on his computer and contemplated leaving him to it; but she instantly chastised herself for the thought. She had chickened out of doing this enough times already; she was not going to back down again.

Building up all her courage, she rapped her knuckles lightly on the doorframe.

"Hi, you got a minute?" She asked with a smile.

"Sure." He took off his glasses and gestured to the seat opposite.

"We really haven't had a chance to talk, what with the staff changes." She sat down and took a second to gather her thoughts. "I, uh, I wanted to let you know that I said some things to Ecklie that may have done the team a disservice."

Sensing where she was going with this, Grissom waved a hand in the air to silence her.

"Ecklie wanted to break up the team, and he did it."

"He asked me if you and I had our post-PEAP counselling session." She added pointedly, feeling her cheeks blush at the mere mention of it.

"And we didn't." Gil acknowledged. "Regardless, you should never have to cover for your boss – I'm sorry."

There was an awkward beat between them, before Sara spoke again with a coy smile.

"You've always been more than a boss to me." She offered quietly. "Why do you think I moved to Vegas?"

This revelation appeared to surprise the older man, who glanced away uncomfortably.

"Look, I know our relationship has been complicated," she hurriedly corrected. "It's probably my fault – probably _definitely_ my fault."

"You, uh, completed your counselling, right?" He cut her off before she could babble any further; although she wasn't entirely sure whether he was asking just to stop her from digging herself a deeper hole, or whether he was about to suggest that she needed more sessions. Either way, she was both relieved for the interruption and wary of the new topic of conversation.

"Yeah, yes."

"And?" He pressed, confirming her fears that he was looking for more than a one-word answer now.

"Let's just say that, I ... sometimes, I look for validation in inappropriate places." She confessed, dropping her gaze and feeling herself flush once again with embarrassment. There was far more to it than that, but without further prompting she wasn't going to go any deeper than necessary.

Grissom, equally uncertain of what else to say, shifted in his seat.

"Look, let's um..."

"It's okay." She smiled, alleviating him of the need to finish his sentence. "It's okay. You know what, we did our session. Don't forget to document this for Ecklie."

Realising to late that he had already lost her, he returned her meek smile and nodded.

"Right."

Standing up, she hurriedly offered her appreciative thanks and scarpered from the room as fast as she could. Okay, so she still hadn't told him everything; but she'd cleared her conscience regarding her conversation with Ecklie. That was a start.

Grissom moved to put his glasses back on, but stopped short and instead watched his subordinate disappear out of sight.

The young woman had been a puzzle to him since the day they first met. She was beautiful – youthful, inquisitive, eager to learn. She got under his skin somehow, and she never really left.

He'd be the first to admit that he didn't really understand women, and least of all women like Sara. Catherine had warned him enough times that if he neglected her, he was liable to lose her; but he'd never really taken her seriously, until he got a phone call one night informing him that Sara was sat in PD after being stopped for drink-driving. He'd rushed to collect her, his heart pounding like a tiki drum all the way. And he'd found her there, despondent.

That was the first time that he had really seen beneath her mask, to the vulnerable soul she usually kept hidden. He had been surprised just how little coaxing she had needed to speak to the counsellor.

For a little while, he had realised what Catherine was talking about – even if Cath herself had been talking about losing Sara in a romantic way, rather than simply losing her to her own demons – and he had paid close attention to her; he had offered comfort and a friendly ear. He had looked out for her.

Then, her mood improved and she began to seem like her old self again. And he had slipped back into bad habits.

Maybe Ecklie was right after all, he realised sadly; he had been letting his team down, in more ways than one.

* * *

He opened the folder again, although he knew that the information hadn't changed since the last time he read it. Still, he cast his eyes over the neatly typed text again:

Sara Aspen Sidle  
September 16 ,1973  
Born – Tomales Bay, CA  
Qualifications – BS in Physics, Harvard; Masters Degree, Berkley  
Previous employment – San Francisco Crime Lab  
Emergency contact – N/A

Exactly as before. Nothing particularly outstanding. However, there was one thing that bothered him – the lack of an emergency number. Sara was barely in her thirties, so it seemed strange that she wouldn't have at least one parent around to list as a contact reference. And even if it wasn't a parent, there must be someone – an aunt or uncle, a cousin.

Shrugging the detail off for now, he turned to the next page and smiled to himself. This was where things got more interesting.

Sara had had a few incidents of note while working in Las Vegas; run-ins with suspects and witnesses, spats with colleagues. By themselves, they all just looked like one-offs, but when you put them together with the new piece of information he had recently received, it became something much bigger.

Sara was not just an angry, belligerent young woman. She was disturbed – emotionally tortured by some unknown part of her black past. Ecklie couldn't help but grin as he realised what this meant. He didn't know the woman who had dropped into his office two days ago, nor did he know why she had come to see him with her concerns about the state of Sara's mental health. But he was glad that she had.

She had given him a way to finally rid himself and his lab of the troublesome brunette once and for all – to get rid of Grissom's Achilles heel, and hopefully Gil himself by default.

And the beauty of it was, he didn't have to do a thing. If the information he had been given was accurate, Sara would be the cause of her own downfall without any outside influence. It was just a matter of waiting for things to get too much for her frayed nerves, waiting for her fragile mind to break.

Grissom wouldn't have a choice in the matter; with her record of psychological issues, he would be forced to fire her – for hers and everyone else's own good.

Ecklie closed Sara's file and sat back in his seat, a serpentine smirk settling on his face.

All he had to do now was sit back and wait for someone to pull the trigger. And maybe add a little gunpowder to the fire, just to hasten things along a bit...


	10. Nesting Dolls

**Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting - its been a long couple of weeks! But, to make it up to you all, I've reworked things to give you the big reveal sooner than planned :) I hope you like this one, since you've been so patient in waiting for it.**

* * *

She was furious. No, she was more than furious – she was incensed.

How dare the girl say that to her? How dare she say it, in the hallway, surrounded by people?

Sara had always had a fiery side to her; and if she were being honest, it was something Catherine admired about her - but she never imagined that the brunette would cross that line.

Luckily for her – and decidedly unluckily for Sara – Ecklie had been there when she had. Not that Catherine was naive enough to believe that that was a coincidence. He always managed to be around when someone screwed up and he had been trying to catch Sara in the act for years.

At least now she might finally face some consequences for her bad temper.

* * *

She opened the door with a heavy sigh and a half-hearted smile, suddenly remembering with dismay that she was still clutching a beer bottle in her hand.

"Well, if you're here it can't be good." She asserted glibly, moving aside to let Grissom shuffle passed her into the small apartment. "Here to see if I'm drunk?"

He turned to her with a sombre glare.

"We both know that's not your problem." He countered seriously and her expression faltered. "I spoke to Catherine."

Sara nodded slowly, pursing her lips.

"Ecklie?" She guessed.

"He wants me to fire you?"

Truth be told, she had been expecting that. A part of her had even been expecting a visit from Grissom. What she didn't expect was for him to be so determined to drag some answers out of her.

"It makes a difference to me." He pressed firmly when she danced around the subject of her erratic behaviour.

With a heavy sigh, she placed her beer bottle on the desk and rested her hands on the back of a chair – making sure to keep the whole room between the two of them.

"I have a problem with authority. I choose men who are emotionally unavailable. I'm self-destructive." She listed exasperatedly, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was referring to Grissom. "All of the above."

"Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?" He asked, taking her by surprise. "It's from The Big Chill. One of the characters explaining a basic fact of life that rationalizations are more important to us than sex even."

"I am not rationalizing anything." She scoffed. "I crossed the line with Catherine, and I was ... insubordinate to Ecklie."

There was a beat of silence between them where she thought he was finally going to drop it. She was wrong.

"Why?" He asked quietly, in that infuriatingly non-judgemental way of his. Sara cast her eyes aside, unable to meet his compassionate stare any longer.

"Leave it alone." She hissed.

"No, Sara." He took a step towards her and she had to fight the urge to take a step back.

"What do you want from me?" She threw her hands out. Grissom took another step forward, and this time she knew that he was well aware of how uncomfortable he was making her. He didn't seem to care, as he continued slowly backing her into a corner.

"I want to know why you're so angry."

Finally accepting that she was not going to get out of answering his questions, even if he wasn't her supervisor any more, Sara moved reluctantly in front of the chair and sank into the cushions, shaking her head in a slow, considered movement.

"I'm not angry." She spoke softly, all her previous tension seeping out of her along with the stray tears sneaking down her cheeks. "I'm scared."

* * *

With one sentence, Grissom had managed to wipe away any trace of smugness from Ecklie's features. And when a soft voice interrupted their staring contest, it took both men by surprise.

"What action are you taking?" Catherine toyed nervously with a pen as she posed the question, feeling the heat from both pairs of eyes on her.

"I've taken it." Grissom answered, his irritation at her question clear in his voice. Evidently, Greg wasn't the only one who was holding her responsible for Sara's predicament.

Ecklie stood up and rolled his shoulders, attempting to exude an air of authority.

"I thought I was clear." He said calmly but firmly.

"You were; now let me be clear." Grissom said, mimicking his stance. "Sara's behaviour is a direct result of my management."

Ecklie bristled, knowing that he was trapped. He could hardly threaten to fire Gil – as much as it would give him great pleasure – and even if he did, the intolerable CSI would only call his bluff.

Unfortunately, firing Grissom was never on the cards. He was just too valuable to the lab.

"I warned you about her, Gil." He offered instead. "I warned you weeks ago and I warned you two days ago." When the entomologist's steely blue gaze didn't waver, Ecklie threw up his hands in exasperation. "You know what, she's a loose cannon with a gun and she's all yours."

A cold air fell over the room as he stalked out, leaving Grissom and Catherine to study each other in his wake.

Catherine narrowed her eyes,

"Why did he warn you about her?"

"It's nothing." Grissom glanced away, but she picked up on the tell-tale guilty look that flashed across his face. "Ecklie got the wrong end of the stick. And he's not the only one."

It was a direct shot at her, but she shrugged it off.

"Gil," she gripped his arm, refusing to let him leave without dignifying her question with a response. "Why did Ecklie warn you about Sara? What's going on?"

He shot her a dark look.

"It's none of your business, Catherine." He said coldly. "And to be honest I don't know why you care. I think you've made your feelings towards Sara perfectly clear today."

Tugging his arm free, he turned on his heel and stalked out – as much as he was able to stalk, in his flat-soled brown loafers – leaving her alone to contemplate his words.

It was understandable that Grissom would be defensive about Sara. He always had been, even when she didn't deserve it. But Ecklie's words suggested that there was something deeper than just Gil's unrequited attraction to the brunette going on; something that Grissom did not want her to know about.

* * *

She drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel, contemplating her next move.

Grissom was wrong. Alright, she may not have acted in the brunette's best interests today, but that didn't mean she didn't _care_ about her. Catherine loved Sara, in her own complex sort of way.

She just didn't understand her right now.

Perhaps if Grissom had told her what was going on, she could have gained more of an insight into Sara's mindset and maybe even forgiven her for her outburst in the hallway. But he had remained tight-lipped, as had Ecklie when pressed for further details of his 'warning'.

So, she had made an executive decision that there was only one way she could find out what was really going on, and that's how she came to be sat in her car outside Sara's apartment building, with the rain hammering down on the metal roof.

Sucking in a deep breath, she hurled herself out of the vehicle and dashed across the parking lot, attempting in vain to shelter herself from the heavy raindrops soaking into her thin shirt.

Reaching the enclosed staircase, she set off up to Sara's flat. She had gained the address from her personnel file – yet another breach of the girl's privacy, but it would be worth it. Apparently, Sara lived on the fourth floor of a rather decrepit tower, with a balcony that overlooked a disused park frequented by drug dealers and hookers.

No wonder the poor girl was always depressed, coming home to this every day.

Hurried footsteps began to descend from above and Catherine pressed herself against the wall just in time for the figure to pass by without barrelling into her.

It was a woman, tall, with flame red curls spiralling out in all directions. Her jaw was set and her green eyes narrowed as they passed briefly over Catherine's face, pausing for the briefest of seconds, before she continued down the stairs.

Catherine watched her depart, her own blue orbs widening in slow realisation as it dawned on her where she had seen the woman before.

She had been in the bar with Sara, all those weeks ago. And she had been talking to Sara in the lab a few days ago, right after the boys left together to go drinking. But those weren't the only times Catherine had run into her. In fact, she finally recalled, it was a fairly regular occurrence.

She worked on the second floor of the lab, in the Human Resources department.

She was the PEAP counsellor.

Catherine lifted her eyes to the landing above her, where Sara was sat in her apartment; presumably stewing over whatever had just occurred with that woman. And, like a blindfold had been removed, it suddenly all made sense.

Ultimately, Catherine never made it to Sara's door. Not that it mattered; she had gotten the answers she came for.


	11. Unbearable

He heard the footsteps approaching a split second before she arrived in the threshold, but it was not long enough for him to prepare for the whirlwind that was about to descend on his office.

"Alright." She started, not giving him chance to come up with a sudden excuse to leave. "I'm going to ask you one more time, and I don't want any bull. Why did Ecklie warn you about Sara?"

Grissom pursed his lips tightly, attempting at all cost to avoid Catherine's intense stare.

"It's confidential." He said, hoping that would deter her. It didn't.

"So was her mandatory counselling, but it didn't stop you from running your mouth off to me about that." She pointed out, watching his cheeks flush red with a mixture of guilt and fear that he was losing this fight. Catherine took a step closer. "Is that what his warning was about? Her counselling sessions?"

Gil exhaled, letting his eyes close; the look of defeat.

"The counsellor spoke to Ecklie a few days ago; she warned him that Sara's mental health might be slipping and that her behaviour could become erratic again. He wanted me to put her on temporary leave, but I refused."

Catherine's eyes narrowed. Coming further into the room, she shut the door and folded her arms across her heaving chest.

"The counsellor spoke to Ecklie, about Sara?" She clarified. "Can she do that?

"I don't know," he shrugged, nonplussed. "But she did."

"That's why Ecklie suspended Sara." Catherine realised out loud, her eyes widening. "He was already gunning for her, and our fight was what he needed to get rid of her. That's why he wanted you to fire her!"

"It probably didn't help." Gil agreed. A frown marred his face. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

Choosing to ignore the question, Catherine spun on her heel and stormed back out of the office as quickly as she had descended on it.

As she left, Grissom watched his office door swing as far open as it could, before springing back on his hinges and gliding closed again with a gentle click.

He couldn't be sure how or why, but he felt like he'd just made a messy situation so much worse.

* * *

Sara could feel several pairs of eyes scrutinising her as she made her way down the winding hallway for the first time in two weeks. Taking slow, calming breaths, she told herself that if she could just make it to the locker room, she'd be fine.

However, her plan fell apart when a sharp, stern voice called her name. She came to an abrupt stop, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling in an attempt to clamp down on her building frustration.

"So close." She muttered to herself.

Catherine assumed that, by stopping, Sara was awaiting further instruction, so she dutifully obliged.

"My office, please?" She requested coolly, and Sara knew without turning around that the blonde had already disappeared back onto her office, assuming that she would follow her.

"Catherine." She greeted as pleasantly as she could, even going so far as to offer a meek smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Have a seat." Cath closed the door for privacy and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

"Okay, look," Sara held her hands up. If they were going to get into the ring for round two, she wanted to at least get her side of the story out there before she got beaten down again. "I'm sorry. What I said was out of line, and I ..."

"It's not about that." Cath cut her off dismissively. "Sit down."

Snapping her mouth shut, Sara frowned and sank into the chair. Cath seemed to deliberate about where to put herself, before electing to perch on the edge of the desk, so she was looking down at her colleague.

"After our 'incident' the other week, I paid a little visit to your apartment. I wanted to ask you in private what was going on with you."

Sara opened her mouth to interrupt, but Cath pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

"But I never made it to your front door. On the stairs, I passed someone who looked familiar; and I realised that it wasn't the first time I've seen you and her together. In fact, it seems the two of you have been spending a lot of time together – in and out of work. And, passing her on the stairs, it finally hit me – where I knew her from."

"Catherine..." Sara attempted to cut her off, panic seeping into her voice.

"Grissom had already told me that you were seeing a PEAP counsellor." Cath continued as if she hadn't heard her. "Although most people have those sessions in her office. You know, the one on the second floor. I've passed her a few times on the stairs at work."

Sara had dropped her gaze to her lap, but Catherine crooked a finger under her chin to lift her head. She was pleased, at least, to see that the younger female seemed to understand where she was going with this. That would make it easier.

"What do you want from me, Cat?" Sara asked hoarsely.

"I want to know what the nature of your relationship is with Belinda Bell, outside of work."

Sara looked away, letting brunette curls shield her face, although it wasn't enough to hide the fact that her cheeks were flaming pink. She mumbled something indecipherable under her breath.

"Sara?" Catherine called firmly, keeping her voice level. "Sara, look at me."

Slowly, Sara lifted her dark eyes to meet the unreadable blue orbs studying her face. Catherine leant down, placing one hand on Sara's leg in an attempt to prevent her from bolting.

"Are you dating this woman?"

"It's not how it looks." It wasn't quite a confession, but it was enough to make Catherine's expression falter.

"No?" She raised her eyebrows, swallowing hard around the lump that had just formed in her throat. "Because it looks like abuse of position."

"No, it wasn't like that!" Sara sat forward urgently, her eyes wide and unexpectedly frightened. "Belinda, she ... we ..."

She trailed off, shaking her head. Realising that Sara was struggling with this more than she had expected her to, Cath took pity on her.

"Did she initiate it?" She asked, softening her voice. Sara looked up and nodded imperceptibly in gratitude at her re-taking control of the conversation.

"No, I did." She answered, still visibly on edge.

"Are you sure?"

Sara sent her a disparaging look.

"I'm sure, Catherine." She stood up, deliberately putting some distance between them. "I don't understand, why do you even care?"

"Are you kidding me?" Cath scoffed, standing up as well. "Sara, this woman has taken advantage of you!"

"No, she hasn't. It wasn't like that."

"Sara, honey, she was in a position of trust of you and she ..."

"What?" Sara challenged. "Offered support? Helped me get my head together?"

"Oh right," Catherine laughed bitterly. "Is that why you picked a fight with me and Ecklie two weeks ago, why you nearly got yourself fired?"

She had determined that she was not going to bring that up, but the comment slipped out before she could stop it and the look on Sara's face said it all. Whatever rapport she had begun to build, she had lost it.

"You know what," Sara pursed her lips. "This is none of your business."

Cath watched her walk away, and didn't speak until Sara's hand grazed the door handle.

"She talked to Ecklie."

Sara stiffened.

"What?"

"A couple of days before you were suspended." Cath explained, stepping behind Sara and reaching out a hand towards her shoulder, but stopping herself before she made contact. "She told him that she thought your mental health was slipping. He asked Grissom to put you on temporary leave, but Gil refused."

Sara whirled around, her eyes wide and watery. Catherine's heart tightened at the sight, but she hid it behind a poker face and a raised eyebrow.

"Why would she do that?" Sara asked quietly.

Catherine sighed, cocking her head to the side. She touched Sara's arm lightly, before sitting on the couch and gesturing for the girl to join her.

"Well, why don't you tell me why you think she did it?"


	12. King Baby

The mug was slammed down in front of her with such force, she visibly jumped in her seat.

"What are you doing?" She demanded of her sister, who was standing over her with a raised eyebrow.

"Bringing you back from whatever far-away place you've drifted off to." Nancy replied, taking a seat at the table opposite with her own drink clutched between her hands.

"I was just thinking." Cath scowled defensively.

"You've been staring at the table for ten minutes." Nancy challenged. "Is it Lindsey? She hasn't been hitch-hiking again, has she?"

"No, she's doing okay. Well, as okay as she ever is at the moment." Cath shrugged.

"Alright." The nurse nodded slowly, considering the other options. "Is it mom?"

"No."

"Sam."

"No."

"You know that I'm going to keep guessing." She smiled coyly.

Catherine met her gaze and sighed.

"You'll be guessing for a long time." She noted. When Nancy didn't flinch at the assertion, she continued, rolling her eyes wearily towards the ceiling. "I found out something, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Okay, what did you find out?"

"I can't tell you. I promised that I wouldn't."

Nancy's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Is it about mom?"

Cath laughed softly.

"No, it's nothing to do with mom!" She promised. "It's about someone at work."

"Oh." The younger sister frowned. "So, why can't you tell _me_? I don't work with them."

Catherine pursed her lips, considering this. She had wanted to talk to someone about it since she found out, but everyone at the lab was off limits. She had considered telling Jim, but even he was too close to the situation.

But Nancy didn't know Sara, or Belinda...

* * *

Belinda's face lit up as soon as she walked in, something that caused Sara's stomach to knot and made it all the harder to do what she was about to.

"Hey Bel." She greeted anxiously.

"Sara!" Belinda gushed, moving to wrap the brunette in a hug, but Sara hurriedly stepped out of her reach.

"We need to talk." Sara began, and the tone of her voice made Belinda freeze to the spot, her expression merging into a mix of fear and panic.

"What's happened?"

* * *

Nancy hadn't said a word in response to Cath's tale, and remained sat with her brow furrowed.

"Gee Nance," Catherine rolled her eyes. "You're right, talking about it really did help. Thanks a lot."

Nancy continued to stare at the scarred wood of the table in deep thought.

"How long was she Sara's counsellor before the relationship started?" She asked at last.

"I don't know." Cath shrugged, standing up to pour herself another cup of coffee. "Sara said that she initiated the relationship after a couple of months, but I'm not sure I believe her. I think she might be covering for Belinda, to protect her job."

"It doesn't really matter who started it." Nancy scowled. "If Belinda knew that her client had feelings for her, she should have ended the sessions immediately."

"Well, she didn't." Cath dropped back into her seat tiredly and dragged a hand through her hair. "And now she's got Sara so turned around, the girl's actually defending her behaviour."

"Cathy, you have to report this." Nancy demanded.

"No, I can't." Cath took a mouthful of coffee and closed her eyes for a second against the bitter taste. "I promised Sara that I wouldn't."

"Never mind what Sara wants," Nancy dismissed, her voice rising in anger. "You just said yourself that this woman is already in her head. She cannot keep working with vulnerable people after something like this."

"Hey, I'm with you." Catherine held her hands up. "I'd like nothing more than to get her struck off. But Sara begged me to let her deal with it herself. And since I'm the only person who knows about this, I can't lose her trust right now."

"So, you're happy to just sit back while a trained medical professional takes advantage of your colleague?" Nancy reached across the table, moving Catherine's coffee cup aside and taking hold of both her hands. "Cath, do you have any idea the kind of long-term impact this could have on Sara?"

"I'm not happy about any of this." Cath retorted. "But the relationship is over, Sara's counselling sessions are finished – there's no need for them to have any more contact."

"How do you know it's over?"

"Sara told me that she ended things about a month ago, after Belinda asked her to quit so they could be together openly."

"Oh, that's just perfect!" Nancy choked. "Not only is this _psychiatric_ professional involved with a patient, she's trying to manipulate her into changing her life as well."

"Which is why Sara ended things." Catherine reiterated. "She's a tough girl, Nancy; and she doesn't like being told what to do. Believe me!"

"Alright, well then answer me this Catherine – if things have been over between them for a month, why did you catch her coming from Sara's flat two weeks ago?"

* * *

Sara flinched as the contents of Belinda's desk skittered across the floor in a tidal wave of fury. The taller woman had her back to her, with her palms flat on the desk and her chest heaving with deep breaths.

"I can't believe you did that."

"I didn't have a choice, Bel." Sara insisted, resisting the urge to get any closer in case the woman turned her anger on her. "Catherine saw you coming from my apartment, she'd already seen us together outside work – she figured it out."

"You could have denied it!" Belinda shouted, whirling on her. Despite the tense situation, Sara couldn't help the tiny smile that crept onto her face.

"You haven't met Catherine, have you?"

Belinda stared at her open-mouthed.

"Sara, you don't get it! I could lose my job, my whole career!"

"No, it's okay." Sara risked getting close enough to grip her wrists, attempting to calm her down. "She promised me that she wasn't going to report you."

"And you believe her?" Belinda scoffed. "See, this is exactly what I mean when I say that you let people manipulate you."

Sara's eyes widened with insult.

"You mean like you were trying to do, when you asked me to quit my job?" She challenged. Belinda opened her mouth, but she was cut off by Sara.

"You know what, Bel." She sighed. "Just forget it. I came here as a courtesy, but Cath's right – there's no need for us to see each other anymore."

"Sara, wait..." Belinda softened suddenly.

But the brunette was already gone, leaving the door standing open in her wake.

The shrink turned back with surprise to the chaos she had caused in her office, as if she were looking at it for the first time. She didn't even remember clearing the contents of her desk; when Sara had told her that Catherine was aware of their relationship, she had just seen red.

With a heavy groan, she stooped down and began cleaning up her belongings.

Maybe Sara was right and Catherine Willows could be trusted with their secret. Then again, maybe she couldn't.

* * *

"Look, there's still a lot that Sara and I have to talk about." Cath deflected with a shrug. "But when we do, I will get the full details and I'll make sure things are well and truly over. If I report Belinda now, Sara will never trust me with anything again."

"And what about Belinda's other patients?" Nancy challenged. "I'm a nurse, Cathy; I can't sit back and watch while a medical professional – a psychiatric specialist, no less – is arbitrarily breaking rules like this."

"Well, you don't have a choice."

Realising that she wasn't getting through to her sister, Nancy moved into the seat beside her.

"Catherine, do you know what Sara talked to her about in those sessions?"

"No, of course not."

"No, but you know that Sara's behaviour in the past has been erratic and defensive?"

"Yeah, you could call it that." She bit back a smile.

"And that kind of behaviour usually stems from some sort of issue from years ago. So, lets say hypothetically, Sara suffered some kind of abuse when she was younger – physical, emotional, sexual – you decide. And she's bottled up all that pain for years, and finally she's confided it in this woman. And, in turn, this woman has started a sexual relationship with her and begun attempting to emotionally control her."

"You're reaching." Cath said, although she could not deny the unsettling feeling starting to burn in the pit of her stomach.

"Did you know that Sara dated women?"

"No." Cath laughed in surprise. "In fact, I always thought she had a thing for Gil."

"So, she may have even been coerced into this relationship?" Nancy continued, watching her sibling's expression for any signs that she was getting through to her. "How many times have you spoken to this women, who works in your building?"

"None."

"And how many times have you seen her with Sara, in the lab?"

Catherine thought about it for a moment.

"Three, I guess. Maybe four."

"Plus a couple of times outside work."

"That's not uncommon, if they've been dating."

"But they haven't – not according to Sara, not for a month."

Catherine sat back in her chair, letting her mind work through everything as if she were piecing together the evidence from a crime scene.

"You think that she's trying to get back together with Sara?"

"Catherine, when you and Eddie broke up, he wanted to be back in your life and it turned into a slinging match – you both knew a lot about each other and used it against each other. Now, imagine he had known every last dark thought that ever went through your head – and imagine he was in a position to use it against you?"

"Like Belinda did when she went to Ecklie." Cath realised, pursing her lips. "She's used Sara's medical information to get her own way, because she doesn't want Sara working at the lab. If Sara quits –or gets fired – then they could be together."

"And if she's done it once, she'll do it again – regardless of anything Sara has to say to her." Nancy said, relieved that Catherine was finally seeing her point. "I know you and Sara have had your differences; but if you care about her at all, you need to get her away from Belinda for good, before she does any more damage to the poor girl."


	13. Big Middle

The coffee shop was quiet for a mid-week afternoon. It was also far enough away from the lab that they were unlikely to be overlooked by anyone they knew.

She saw Sara enter and scan the small space analytically, before spotting Catherine in the corner booth and sidling reluctantly over to join her.

"Hey." She greeted softly, sitting down and immediately averting her gaze. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"I do." Cath agreed, nudging the latte towards her and receiving a mumbled thanks.

"If this is about Belinda, I already spoke to her."

Catherine cocked her head to the side, pleasantly surprised that Sara was willing to start talking first. Realising that it was probably going to be easier to let Sara control the conversation, for the time being at least, she sat back and folded her hands on the table.

"What did she say?"

"She was upset." Sara took a deep breath, nursing her coffee mug between her hands. "She didn't want anyone else to know, and now she's worried that she's going to lose her job."

"That might not be such a bad thing." Cath noted with a sarcastic eye-roll.

"She's a good counsellor, Catherine." Sara countered, finally meeting her gaze. "She really helped me when I was feeling completely out of control."

Catherine pursed her lips, sitting forwards and crossing her arms.

"And, you feel in control right now?"

Sara didn't answer, choosing instead to make patterns in the foam on top of her coffee with a wooden stirrer.

"Sara." Cath pressed gently, placing a hand on the table in front of her colleague. Sara looked away again.

"It's been hard, since we broke up. But I'm getting there."

"What exactly did she say when you told her that you were ending all contact?"

Sara shrugged non-committally.

"Sara." Cath pushed again.

"I told you, she was upset."

Catherine narrowed her eyes, scanning them across her friend's face as if Sara were a suspect in an interrogation.

"Did she hurt you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Sara lifted her eyes towards the ceiling and sighed.

"She lost her temper, alright. She cleared her desk onto the floor, but she didn't hurt me. We had words and I left. It's over."

Catherine took a minute to scrutinise Sara's face and her words, before nodding satisfactorily.

"Good."

They fell into an awkward silence, with neither of them quite sure where to go from here. They had never exactly been friends, save for a couple of drinks after work without the boys. But even then, conversation had been light and they usually drank in companionable silence.

Eventually, Sara cautiously met her colleague's stare across the table again.

"Since I've played by your rules, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Cath shrugged, relieved to have some discussion again.

"I want a straight answer." Sara insisted, causing Catherine's eyes to narrow.

"Alright. What is it?"

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

Catherine sucked in a breath and straightened up.

"You mean, am I going to report her to Grissom? Or Ecklie?" She clarified, watching the studious hazel eyes twitch in acknowledgement that her summary was correct. "No, I'm not."

Sara visibly relaxed, letting her eyes close for a second.

"Thank you."

"Just do me a favour, okay." She continued. "Don't shut us out in the future. We care about you, Sara – use is."

A small smile tugged at Sara's lips, but it didn't quite reach her glistening orbs.

"I'll try."

It wasn't a promise – deliberately so – but it was something, and Catherine took it.

* * *

Nancy slumped onto the bench at the nurses' station, taking a moment to catch her breath and pin a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

One of her colleagues, propped up behind the desk, noticed her appearance.

"How's Mr Timmons?" She asked, putting her folder down.

"Constipated." Nancy replied exasperatedly. "And bitching about it like you wouldn't believe!"

The other nurse grinned, visibly pleased that she had not picked that particular case file from the stack of manila folders balanced precariously on the edge of the bench.

"Honestly, if I have to spend one more minute listening to him complain, I'm going to commit murder with that bedpan."

As she spoke, she cast a lazy glance over the staff roster. Then, straightening up, she was about to leave when she stalled, her eyes dragging back over the list of names more carefully.

"Who's Belinda Bell?"

"She's the new part-time psych nurse." Her colleague explained. "She's doing cover for Kate, while she's on maternity."

"Where's she from?" Nancy pressed, her mind working overtime. Surely, it _couldn't_ be?

"Not sure. Apparently she comes very highly recommended though – she also works for the police as their counsellor."

"Is that right." Nancy nodded slowly, chewing on her lower lip.

* * *

An unexpectedly cool breeze whistled between them as they strolled down the road, neither making eye contact and both trying to find something to say.

"I've been trying to remember all the times I saw you with her," Catherine said at last, burying her hands in her pockets. "And there's one that I keep coming back to. You were in a lab at the end of your shift. She was talking to you and then she left you alone. You were crying."

Sara tilted her head towards the sky, trying to recall the incident.

"It had been a bad case and it had just brought up some harsh memories." She explained. "She picked the wrong moment to try and talk to me – she touched a nerve."

Cath sent her a sympathetic look.

"She upset you."

"She said I was losing my mind." Sara shot her the briefest of sideways glances.

"Well, that's nice from a psychiatric specialist." Cath scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head.

"She just said it to get a reaction."

Catherine glanced at her from beneath her lashes, sensing that there was more to that statement. Sure enough, the silent question in her movements worked and Sara swallowed hard before continuing quietly.

"My mom has schizophrenia. Mental health is kind of a sensitive topic for me."

"I bet. But you're not schizophrenic." Catherine softened her tone.

"No? Sometimes I feel like it." Sara admitted, shuddering; although Cath didn't know whether it was the cold or the topic of conversation causing her discomfort.

Catherine caught her wrist and tugged her to a stop, turning to face her.

"Sara, you know where I am if you ever need to talk right? I may not have a psychology degree, but I promise I'll never make you feel like that."

Sara smiled, a genuine smile this time that lit up her face in a way that Catherine realised she hadn't seen in far too long.


	14. Compulsion

**Sort of a filler chapter. Have a much needed week off work, so will try to get at least one more chapter up by the weekend.**

* * *

Her brow creased with a frown. Momentarily closing her locker, she then opened it again and continued to stare in bemusement at the contents.

"Ahem." Nick leant close to her ear and cleared his throat. "You alright there, Sar?"

Slamming the locker shut, she turned and gave him a tight smile.

"I'm fine." She lied, sliding past him to sit on the bench and began instead rifling through her bag.

"You lost something?" Warrick noted her strange behaviour and shared an amused grin with Nick at the usually unflustered brunette's obvious stress.

"No." She scowled. "Not lost. Just can't find."

The boys chucked at her use of semantics in an attempt to deflect from the truth.

"I hate to break it to you honey," Nick said sweetly, patting her gently on the back as he made to leave. "But that's the same thing."

As the two jokers left, Sara abandoned her bag and sat back, continuing to scowl at the lockers. The other resident of the room, who had thus far remained quiet, moved to sit beside her.

"Everything okay?"

She cast a sideways glance at Greg's eager face and felt some of her irritation fade away.

"I was sure I put something in my locker earlier, and now it's not there."

"Maybe you left it at home?" He suggested. "Or in the car?"

"Maybe." She agreed, although it was clear that she didn't believe that for a second. "You know, it's the second time I've lost something today. Earlier, I was working on the Johnson case, and I cannot for the life of my find that folder now."

"Well, it can't have gone too far."

"You wouldn't think so, but it's eluded me so far." She dragged a hand through her hair in frustration. "And now ... I feel like the world is messing with me today."

Greg tentatively placed a hand on her arm.

"I was about to go make myself a cup of coffee." He smiled, raising his eyebrows playfully to indicate the bag of Blue Hawaiian sat on the bench beside him. "How about I make two cups, and we see if we can find that folder?"

Her expression softened and she nodded gratefully.

"Thanks, Greg." She exhaled slowly. "I'd appreciate that."

Pleased to have been on some assistance, the young man snatched up his coffee and scampered off to make two mugs of the steaming brew before she could get a better offer, or change her mind.

Alone in the room at last, Sara stood up and returned to her locker one last time.

She was _certain_ she had put it in there. So, where the hell was it?

* * *

Catherine cast a hurried glance across the room, to where Grissom was staring pensively at a blood pattern, before sidling over to Sara.

"Hey," she hummed casually, still managing to startle Sara out of her thoughts.

"Hey." The brunette echoed, regaining her composure.

"Are you alright? You seem kind of distracted today."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sara pushed herself to her feet, dusting fingerprint powder off her gloves. She looked over at Grissom and raised an eyebrow in question.

"He hasn't noticed." Catherine answered her unasked query. "He's too busy meditating on the blood void."

"Good." Sara nodded, pretending to look for something in her forensic case in a vain attempt to avoid eye contact with the suspicious strawberry blonde.

Ensuring they were out of ear shot, Cath took a step closer and lowered her voice.

"Is it Belinda?"

"No, actually, I haven't seen her." Sara answered and, despite the nervous hitch in her voice, Catherine seemed to accept the response.

"Good." She pursed her lips. "So, why do you look like someone's lit a match under you today?"

At the bemused scowl she received, Cath chuckled and placed a gentle hand on Sara's shoulder.

"Honey, you've been fidgeting and flinching since we left the lab. I know something's wrong."

Realising that she wasn't going to be able to lie herself out of this one, Sara took a deep breath, when Grissom finally managed to tear himself away from his thoughts long enough to notice their intense conversation. She clamped her mouth shut and took a deliberate step out of Catherine's reach.

The older woman cocked her head to the side, before she caught a glimpse of Gil staring at them and realised what had spooked Sara into silence again.

Deciding to end the conversation before the entomologist got too curious and began asking questions, Cath gave Sara a pointed look to show that her reprieve was only temporary, before stalking back to her own section of the room.

As she passed Grissom, he sent her an inquisitive look which she returned with disdain.

"What?" She shrugged calmly.

* * *

Sloping up the steps, she dragged her feet tiredly across the worn boards until she reached her apartment door. She slotted the key into the lock and turned it, frowning when there was no telltale click.

Assuming it was stuck, she tried again, harder this time. Still, the key wouldn't budge. Tentatively, she pressed down on the handle, her eyes widening in alarm when the door opened with ease.

Her apartment was unlocked – but she was certain she had locked it. She _always_ locked it.

A slow-building sense of dread started to build in the pit of her stomach.

Unholstering her weapon, she nudged the door open with her foot and, with her heart pounding against her ribcage, darted inside.

Her firearm raised, she swung it from one wall to the next, clearing the apartment one corner at a time, until she found herself in the middle of the apartment pointing a gun at the door she had just come through.

Although she couldn't hear anything due to the blood rushing through her ears, and she felt a headrush from spinning in a circle around the living room, she managed to establish one fact through the fog in her head.

She was alone in the apartment.

She quickly locked and bolted the door, trying the handle twice to make sure, and sank onto the sofa, running a shaky hand through her hair.

She _always_ locked the door. She was certain that she had done so yesterday.

Just like she was certain that she had put her mother's wedding ring in her locker.


	15. Spark of Life

Grissom almost sloped past the room, when a glimpse of the slender brunette stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey, there you are." He frowned, shuffling into the dimly lit lab.

"Here I am." She agreed apathetically, not bothering to tear her gaze from her work.

He paused for a moment, shaking his head at her cool response, before joining her at the bench.

"Do you have the Johnson case file? I can't find it with the evidence."

Sara straightened up, pursing her lips.

"Yes, I do." She nodded slowly. "I just don't know where it is."

His perplexed expression deepened.

"You don't know where it is?" He echoed.

"It's in the lab, somewhere." She corrected herself quickly. "I just can't remember where I put it."

For a moment, he studied her sheepish expression, before offering a meek shrug.

"Okay. Well, when you find it, let me know."

She blinked, surprised by his lack of concern. She had expected a lecture about carelessness; or at the very least a little-known quote from Tsung Tzu or the like.

"Sure." She agreed cautiously. He started to walk away, but came to an abrupt stop in the doorway and turned back to face her.

"Are you okay? You seem ... tired." He decided, taking a moment to choose the right word.

She planted a smile on her face, attempting to force herself to relax despite every aching muscle in her body screaming at her to stop.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've just got a lot on at the moment."

For a gut-wrenching moment, she thought he was going to keep pushing; but he offered up nothing more than a small nod of acceptance, and then he was gone.

Sara exhaled, taking a few seconds to bask in the relief of having bought herself some time. Sure, she had battled to get Grissom's attention in the past; but every now and then it worked in her favour that he was so utterly oblivious to human emotions.

* * *

She had never been so relieved to hear the gentle click as the key worked through the gears and unlocked the door. Stepping into the apartment, she shut it behind her and immediately locked it again. It was second nature to do so – a side-effect of living in a city like Vegas – but she found herself checking that it was definitely secure, just in case. She had done the same with her car and her locker at work.

Satisfied that the door wouldn't budge, she moved further into her home and tossed her keys onto the bench – also second nature. However, instead of clattering onto the marble-effect counter, they landed with a gentle thud onto a cardboard folder.

Sara stilled, staring wide-eyed at the file. It was just sitting innocuously on the edge of her counter; but it hadn't been there when she'd left for work several hours ago. She _knew_ it hadn't been.

Sliding her keys off it, she opened it just enough to see the name written on the first page; although in the pit of her stomach, she already knew what it said.

* * *

She stopped just outside the door, cocking her head to the side. She could see through the glass walls that Sara was alone in the break room, and yet she could hear the young woman muttering, apparently to no one in particular.

"Hey." She greeted cautiously, stepping inside. Sara visibly started, barely managing to keep hold of her coffee mug. Catherine sent her a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Sara cleared her throat, attempting to compose herself as she took a seat at the centre bench.

"Well, you're like a cat on hot coals, for one thing." Catherine noted with a tiny smile. "And you're talking to yourself, for another."

Sara shot her a dismissive look.

"I am not talking to myself. I'm just trying to work something out."

"Out loud." Cath added pointedly, joining the brunette at the counter.

Sara set her gaze straight ahead and made a point of drinking her coffee without acknowledging the comment.

"Gil mentioned that you seemed kind of off yesterday." The older woman continued, trying to study her colleague's features. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine." Sara fought the urge to roll her eyes, sensing that it would not go down too well with the persistent supervisor.

She could still feel Catherine's pensive blue eyes watching her, but refused to meet her eye, lest her guarded mask start to slip.

"Alright then." The blonde said at last, although it was clear from her tone that the conversation was not over yet. She remained sat beside Sara, the two of them silently waiting each other out for several minutes, before the young CSI finally relented. Wordlessly, she slid a plain manila folder across the bench towards Catherine.

"What's this?"

"It's the Johnson file." Sara explained calmly.

"Oh, you found it."

"Yeah." She nodded, cupping her hands around her coffee mug to stop them from fidgeting. "At home."

Catherine looked up, beginning to realise why her colleague appeared on edge.

"I thought you lost it in the lab?"

"I did." Sara turned to her, the faintest hint of fear starting to creep through her poker-face. "You're a scientist, Catherine. Explain to me how I could have lost it here and yet it somehow found its way into my apartment."

"Are you suggesting that someone else put it there?" Catherine raised her eyebrows sceptically. Sara sat forward, resting her head on her hands, and sighed.

"When I got home yesterday, my front door was unlocked."

"What?"

The exclamation came out more dramatically than she intended and Sara jumped in her seat.

"There was nobody there, but the door was definitely unlocked and I know I locked it before I left."

"Was anything missing?" Cath pressed, feeling her heart rate increasing, though she couldn't entirely explain the sudden feeling of panic.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Catherine, I'm sure." Sara insisted, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "I checked everything and nothing was missing. But that was sitting on my kitchen counter when I got home this morning."

"Have you filed a report?"

"And say what?" Sara laughed bitterly. "That someone broke into my apartment and left me the thing I'd been looking for all day?"

"Alright." The older woman nodded, understanding her reluctance. It did sound strange, even to her. "Well, is there anyone else who has a key?"

"Nick has a spare key, but unless he's deliberately trying to gaslight me, I don't think it was him."

"No, perhaps not." Cath pursed her lips. "What about Belinda?"

"No, she never had a key to my place. And anyway, when would she have been able to get the folder?"

"She does still work here sometimes; she could have taken it when you weren't looking?"

"I don't know." Sara frowned, her sinking her teeth into her lower lip in contemplation. "I can't see her pulling a stunt like this just to screw with me."

Catherine opened her mouth to contest the matter, but the entrance of Grissom and the boys brought the conversation to an abrupt end.

"Hey Sara!" Nick greeted cheerily, his joy at seeing her written all over his face. Since the team had been split in two, he had missed their casual flirting and friendly insults.

"Oh Sara," Grissom glanced up briefly from the case file he was nose-deep in. "I gather that you know you're with Catherine's team tonight?"

Sara turned to face her companion, one eyebrow arching in question. Cath flashed her a sweet smile. If Sara had thought that she was going to escape the discussion anytime soon, she was sorely mistaken.

"Sorry, did I forget to mention that?"

* * *

Jim Brass was not a man of many words, and even fewer when there were dead bodies to deal with.

"Husband and wife, looks like it could be a domestic gone wrong. The husband's in the kitchen, the wife in the living room. Neighbours heard gunshots about an hour ago." He rattled off in a clipped voice.

"Alright." Cath nodded, surveying the scene. "Sara, why don't you take the perimeter and work your way into the kitchen from the back garden. Warrick, you take the upstairs and work down to the living room. Start in the bedroom."

"You got it, boss." The dark-skinned CSI handed Sara her kit from the back of the car and the two of them set off on their respective tasks. Warrick knew that Nick had been disappointed not to be working with Sara; but he was glad of the opportunity himself. Not in the least because he had been trying to catch her alone for a while. They may not be on the same team anymore, but they still worked in the same building and her change in demeanour of late had not gone unnoticed by the astute CSI.

But this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it, so he handed her the metal case without a word and made his way into the house.

Since there was not much of a front garden to speak of, and most of it had already been trampled by police officers and paramedics, Sara opted to go straight to the back garden via the narrow strip of grass running alongside the house.

"Alright, what do we know about our victims?" Cath asked of Brass, using the time to scan the house and neighbourhood while he recited what he had already learned.

"Married six years, he's a stockbroker, she's a dental assistant. They moved here right after they got married. No kids. Apart from a couple of drunken domestics a few years ago, neighbours said they were a quiet couple."

"Nice area." Cath noted, casting a glance over the shell-shocked faces of the neighbours. "I bet most of these people have never heard a gunshot before, never mind in their own street."

As if to prove her point, the gathering crowd suddenly emitted a frightened shriek. Men dived for their wives and children, police officers ducked low to the ground and drew their weapons, with barking hurried messages into their radios.

But Catherine didn't hear any of that. All she heard was the deep echo of the gunshot that had just rung out from the back garden.


	16. 4x4

The sound ripped through her like a sword and, for a second, the whole world seemed to slow down.

What started as a relatively straightforward domestic murder had turned into a scene of chaos.

Catherine couldn't remember what was said after hearing the gunshot. She couldn't remember running around the side of the house, or drawing her weapon. She couldn't even remember whether she saw the gunman.

All she remembered was the sight of Sara on the ground, blood pooling beneath her head, her skin rapidly turning from white to blue.

Brass was already barking instructions at the officers to search the perimeter and identify where the shot had been fired from. An ambulance was summoned. Catherine had fallen at Sara's side, Warrick quickly materialising beside her; and together they carefully rolled her onto her side.

Sara's eyes were closed, her light skin spattered with deep red stains. It wasn't possible to see how bad the injury to her temple was, due to the waves of blood pulsing out of it.

"She's still breathing!" Warrick yelled, tearing his shirt off and pressing it firmly to her wound.

"Oh, God." Cath gasped, clutching her stricken friend's hand tightly between both her own. "Don't you dare, girl! Don't you dare do this to me!"

"Cath," Brass lightly gripped her shoulders and attempted to move her out of the way, but she stuck like a limpet. "Cath, the EMTs are here."

Suddenly she found herself dragged away, and the paramedics swarmed around her stricken friend.

"Oh God, Jim." She sobbed, gripping the detective's arm. "I can't lose her! I can't lose her..."

* * *

"Catherine!" Nick's breathless holler drew her attention from the closed hospital door and she rose to greet the Texan. "How bad it is?"

"I don't know, they haven't said anything yet." She slipped easily into his arms, allowing him to hold her up for just a second. "There was so much blood."

"I just spoke to Warrick, he's still at the scene." Nick mumbled against her hair. "He said there's still no sign of the gunman, but he found the bullet – it was shot from inside the house."

"Inside?" She echoed, pulling away to regard him curiously. "That's not possible, the scene was cleared."

Nick shrugged, a silent response for a question he couldn't answer.

Catherine sank back onto her seat, pulling him down with her.

"God Nick, what's going to happen to her?"

"Hey, she's going to be fine!" He assured her. "Sara's a tough girl, she's going to get through this!"

"She was shot in the head!"

"No, actually, she wasn't." A glib voice interrupted, and Catherine was back on her feet before Nick had even registered where the sound came from.

"Nancy!" Cath twisted her hands anxiously in front of her. "Is she going to be alright?"

"The bullet grazed her temple. She's still unconscious, so we won't know the full extent of the head injury until she wakes up, but she's survived the worst of it. We're just moving her to recovery now."

"So, she's going to be okay?" Nick clarified, ignoring the medical babble and honing in on specific words.

Nancy snapped Sara's file closed and offered a tight smile.

"She's a very lucky girl." She answered cryptically, slipping back into the operating theatre; careful not to let the criminalists catch a glance of the patient within.

Catherine exhaled deeply, lowering herself back into her chair.

"She's alive." She whispered, to herself more than anyone else. She just had to hear the words out loud, needed to feel them on her tongue. She's alive.

"See, I told you." Nick beamed, crouching down in front of her. "It'll take more than a bullet to keep her down for long!"

Catherine laughed softly, but it quickly turned into a choked sob.

"Hey, hey." Nick frowned, pulling the woman into a hug. "She's okay. She's alright."

He felt Catherine nod against his shoulder, her nails clawing frantically at his back through the thin fabric of his shirt.

With her unable to see his face, Nick sucked in a breath and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling in an attempt to stop his building tears from spilling down his flushed cheeks.

She was going to be okay. She _had_ to be.

* * *

Warrick snapped the phone shut and clipped it back onto his belt.

"Hey Jim," he called out, waiting for the aging detective to jog over to him. "That was Nick. Sara's in recovery, they think she's going to be alright."

"Thank God for that." Brass breathed out a low, deep breath and wiped the back of his hand across his sweat-drenched forehead. "You know, I thought we were going to have to prise Catherine off her with the Jaws of Life earlier."

Warrick laughed, revelling the feeling of being able to relax again.

"Yeah, she likes to play it tough, but that maternal streak always takes over – even with Sara."

"Recently it seems to have been dominating with Sara." Brass noted curiously.

"What do you mean?" The dark-skinned man asked, his features forming into a frown.

"Oh, nothing." Jim shook his head and plastered a smile on his face. "I'm just relieved she's going to be alright."

Warrick nodded in agreement and swiped his damp curls away from his forehead, before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves and returning to his work.

Brass watched the lithe CSI for a moment, before eventually ambling over to the fence and leaning pensively against it. There was a dark stain drying into the flagstones in front of him. Furiously blinking back tears, he looked away, unable to stare at her blood any longer.

"Oh man," he exhaled, his voice wavering. "Why do you do this to us, girl?"


	17. Hollywood Brass

Before she even made it through the door, she felt her fears allay and the butterflies in her stomach dissipate. Sara still looked pale, and had a faded red smear on her neck that had yet to be washed away, but she was awake and sitting upright in bed; and that was more than Catherine could have hoped for yesterday.

"Hey, how's the patient?"

"Uncooperative." Nancy half-joked, drawing a knowing grin to Cath's face.

"That's my girl." She chuckled, sidling up to the bed and taking Sara's hand in her own.

The brunette started to smile, but it quickly turned into a wince as continued to re-dress her injury.

"Sorry." The nurse mumbled unapologetically.

Catherine squeezed Sara's hand gently, subtly scrutinising her for any obvious signs of injury or pain – aside from the large gash in her forehead, of course.

"I'm fine." Sara answered her silent question. Cath's eyes flicked to hers, narrowing suspiciously.

"Is that just a reflex for you?" She queried. "Regardless of what state you're in ... you're still fine?"

Sara cocked her head to the side, a familiar half smile creeping back onto her lips.

"Yes."

Nancy chuckled wordlessly, shaking her head. She had heard plenty about this woman over the years, but had always assumed that her sister was exaggerating – after all, surely nobody could be that stubborn.

Evidently, Catherine had been justified in complaining.

"So, I can go home after this, right?" Sara continued, an optimistic look crossing her face.

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"You were shot in the head, honey. It's going to take more than a band-aid this time."

"I'm..."

"Don't." The supervisor placed a finger over her lips before she could finish. "Don't even say it."

"Far be it from me to agree with my big sister," Nancy shot Catherine a sideways glance. "But she's right, I'm afraid. It might have only been a glancing wound, but you still took a serious blow to the head."

"See, listen to the medical professional." Catherine scolded, trying her best to disguise the laugh threatening to bubble out of her at Sara's pathetic pout.

Thankfully, she was offered a reprieve by the trilling of her cell phone. Shooting an apologetic nod to Nancy, and receiving a dismissive wave in response, she slipped back outside to answer it.

"You never said you were her sister." Sara challenged suspiciously once she was alone with the nurse again.

"Didn't I?" Nancy replied nonchalantly. "Fancy that."

Sara pursed her lips.

"I really aren't getting out today, am I?" She acknowledged sadly.

She had known Catherine for long enough to know that arguing with her was futile. She could only assume that it was a genetic trait.

Catherine shuffled back in, stuffing her cell phone back into her pocket.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." She sighed, leaning past Nancy to place a light kiss on Sara's cheek. "Something's going on with Lindsey, something about fighting at school."

Nancy's professional facade faltered for the first time.

"Is she okay?"

"I'll let you know when I found out." Cath threw her hands up, before squeezing Sara's arm. "I'll come back later, okay? Behave yourself."

They watched her leave, an unsettled silence falling across the room.

Finally, Nancy released a long sigh.

"Makes me glad I have a boy."

Sara nodded slowly, cocking her head to the side.

"Makes me glad I have a cat."

* * *

"Mr Andrews," Catherine greeted formally, her gaze naturally seeking out her daughter. Lindsey was sat behind the principals desk with her back to her mother. Upon hearing Cath's voice, she dropped her head and visibly swallowed.

"Ms Willows." The principal stood up to shake her hand. "I'm sorry to have to call you in – I saw the news, I imagine you're quite busy today."

"Yes, we are." Cath agreed, sending Lindsey a stern look. "What's happened?"

Mr Andrews sat down and Catherine reluctantly followed suit, sensing that this was going to be a long conversation. Lindsey still refused to meet her eye, but Cath could see the child sending shifty looks in her direction.

"We've had some reports from students that Lindsey has been involved in several bullying incidents."

"Bullying?" Cath echoed incredulously. "Lindsey..."

"It would appear that things have come to a head today – one of our students has suffered some injuries, which have allegedly been caused by a particular group of girls in her class."

"Lindsey..." Cath began, but the child looked away.

"I would like to stress that there are others involved and we will be talking to all the parents." The principal jumped in hurriedly. "However, while the matter is investigated, I'm afraid I have no choice but to suspend all the girls involved. I'm sorry."

Catherine stared, open-mouthed, unable to comprehend what she was being told. She knew that he was waiting for her to say something, but she simply didn't have any words. Her daughter was feisty and she could be difficult at times, but she was not a bully...

* * *

Despite tough competition, Gil couldn't help but feel that this was possibly the most uncomfortable he had ever felt, as he shuffled his feet awkwardly on the tiled hospital room floor.

"How are you?" He asked, immediately cursing himself for doing so. "I mean, how are you feeling?"

Sara smiled, tossing her magazine aside and lifting herself carefully into a more upright position.

"All things considered, I'm pretty good." She half-joked. Gil, however, did not smile, as he studied her carefully as if she were some delicate exhibit.

"Jim said that you didn't call for back-up." He frowned, approaching the bed. He briefly considered perching on the edge of the mattress, but quickly thought better of it. "He said that you didn't even call out for help."

Sara averted her gaze, taking a deep breath.

"No, I didn't." She admitted softly.

Although he didn't say anything, there was an obvious question in his raised eyebrow.

"I honestly don't know; I just froze up ... I saw the gun and I panicked. I don't know what else to tell you."

"You know, you haven't been yourself for a while now." He noted carefully, inching closer.

"I'm fine." The words slipped out beyond her control and she instantly thought back to her conversation with Catherine earlier. It really was a reflex.

Gil licked his lips, twisting his hands in front of him.

"I think it would be a good idea for you to speak to the PEAP counsellor again."

Sara's eyes widened, a lump forming in her throat.

"No, I can't." She swallowed, sinking further against the pillow.

"Just for a few sessions." Gil assured her. "It's already organised with Ecklie. I think it'll help."

"Couldn't I find someone else – another counsellor?"

"You were involved in a shooting incident at work." Grissom pointed out carefully, feeling his own stomach knot at the words. "You'd have to have two mandatory sessions with her anyway, in order to be cleared to come back to work. I just think a few more would be beneficial."

Sara scowled, sitting further upright.

"Don't I at least get a say in it?"

"Of course you do." He frowned, surprise by her reluctance to agree.

He found himself torn between his desire to reach out and comfort her in her obvious distress, and the self-awareness of his complete incompetency at dealing with other human's emotions. In the end, he settled for offering what he hoped was a comforting smile.

"There's no rush. You're going to need some recovery time anyway, so take a few days and get back to me."

Sara nodded, sensing that that was supposed to be some kind of reassurance. In truth, sitting at home, alone, 'recovering' was probably the last thing she needed right now.

* * *

"Hold it!"

Lindsey froze halfway up the stairs, grimacing. She hadn't really thought her mother would let her escape that easily, but it had been worth a shot.

"Get back down here," Cath continued sternly. "You and I need to talk about this."

Lindsey turned and sloped back downstairs, dropping heavily onto the couch. Catherine sat on the coffee table opposite, essentially trapping her daughter in.

"Okay," she began as calmly as she could. "So, start talking."

"Why?" Lindsey challenged. "You've already decided it's my fault, what's the point in trying to explain it to you?"

"You were caught in the act, Lindsey." Catherine rebuffed. "You and your friends were seen pushing that poor girl over and kicking her! Now, I want you to explain to me why on earth you think that is acceptable."

"It wasn't like that." Lindsey sat forward, angry tears starting to well up in her eyes. "It started as an argument and it just got out of hand."

"Well, I'm sure that'll be a big comfort to Paige's parents – when they pick her up from the hospital!" Cath snapped. "Lindsey, what the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what you could have done to that poor girl?"

Lindsey sank her gaze into her lap, her bottom lip poking out sullenly. Catherine waited for a moment, before sucking in a deep breath.

"Fine. Go to your room." She instructed coolly. "Your grandmother's on her way to look after you. _We_ will talk about this later, when I get back."

The girl looked up, her cold blue eyes studying her mother.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get back to work."

The bitter laugh that spilled out of Lindsey's pouting lips rattled through Catherine, leaving an uneasy feeling in its wake.

"Surprise surprise." The child rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the couch.

"Hey, my best friend is in the hospital!" Cath stood up as well. "A little sympathy and understanding wouldn't go amiss."

Lindsey snatched up her bag from where she had discarded it on the floor and made her way to the stairs.

"Whatever." She muttered. "I'll be in my room, whenever you decide to come home."

* * *

She was half asleep, still contemplating Grissom's offer, when she heard the door open. When the person didn't speak, she assumed it was a member of staff and remained with her back to the door. However, the sensation of a gentle hand on her shoulder disturbed her musings and she instinctively turned towards her visitor.

The first thing she saw was a warm smile, beneath glistening green eyes.

It was a sight that made her blood run cold.

"Hi Sara." Belinda greeted softly. "I'm so glad to see you. You had me so worried!"


	18. What's Eating Gilbert Grissom?

Catherine did a double take, convinced that she must be seeing things. But, to her dismay, the scene playing out before her was true.

Belinda was walking out of Sara's hospital room.

It was a slight consolation that the red-head looked equally looked put-out to see Catherine there, although it still didn't ease the sting of running into the woman again.

"Catherine." Belinda straightened up to her full height.

Catherine, choosing not to acknowledge the greeting, moved around the other woman to peer through the little window in the door.

Sara was curled on her side, asleep. For the time being, she looked fine.

Turning back to her counterpart, she placed her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders.

"What are you doing here? I thought Sara made her feelings about you clear."

If Belinda was surprised by the blunt question, she covered it well.

"I heard about the shooting. I wanted to make sure that she was okay."

Cath instinctively shot another glance at her slumbering colleague.

"What did you do?"

This time, Belinda bristled.

"I didn't _do_ anything. We just talked." She paused, sensing Catherine's distrust. "She's fine."

Catherine, affronted at the attitude she was being faced with, made a point of opening the door to the little private room and peering inside. Sara looked fine, but she needed to hear the gentle sound of her breathing before she would be convinced.

Belinda laughed, shaking her head.

"Nothing much has changed, I see." She mused lightly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. Taking a step closer, she leant down towards Catherine with a sneer. "And you had the gall to say that _I_ was obsessed with Sara. I think maybe you need to take a look in the mirror."

* * *

"Obsessed ... that nut-job called _me_ obsessed!" She huffed, yanking another grape off the vine and chewing on it petulantly. "I mean, who the hell does she think she is?"

Instead of answering, Nancy made a point of looking at her watch.

"Forty minutes. That's impressive."

"What?" Catherine blinked.

"That's how long you've been ranting about this for."

"I'm sorry." Catherine said without a hint of remorse. "Do you have someplace else to be?"

Nancy laughed, further irritating her sister, and slid her coffee mug aside.

"Do you remember the first coffee we shared after Sara moved to Vegas, all those years ago?"

"No."

"I do." The younger sibling smiled fondly. "You stormed into my kitchen complaining about her, and you haven't stopped since."

"I do not complain about her." Catherine snapped.

"Yes, you do! You swear about her, you downright insult the poor girl at times. And you worry about her." She paused, narrowing her eyes. "How many times have you picked up the phone to check on her and chickened out before you could finish dialling.

Realising that this was not a rhetorical question and her sister was expecting an answer, Cath sighed.

"I don't know, a dozen?"

"Right." Nancy grinned, sinking back into her seat with a satisfied expression.

"I worry about the boys, too!" She added defensively, not happy to leave it there.

"Yeah, but you can actually talk to them about it."

"I know that they won't bite my head off."

"Or maybe you know what to say to them, but you don't know what to say to Sara."

Catherine paused, trying to come up with an argument to refute that and coming up blank.

"Okay." She agreed at last, still not satisfied that Nancy had proven her point.

"Far be it from me to agree with Belinda; but face it Cath – she got under your skin the first time you met, and she never really left." Nancy smirked. "And the truth is, you love it!"

* * *

After Nancy's personality assassination, Catherine was in no mood for small talk or pleasantries as she swept past the reception desk into the maze of labs.

She was set on making her way to her office without stopping or speaking to anyone. However, as she skated past Grissom's office, something caused her to grind to a halt.

"Just a few more sessions, that's all I'm asking. Belinda's already agreed to it."

 _Belinda._ Even the sound of her name made Catherine's blood run cold.

Catherine stepped closer, listening for Grissom's response to Ecklie's statement.

"Sara won't like it."

"Sara got herself shot recently." Ecklie pointed out. "I hardly think she's in the right headspace to make those kind of decisions – which is exactly why I think it would be a good idea for her to sit down with the shrink for a few more hours."

"No!"

Catherine heard the startled response, before she realised that it had come from herself.

Ecklie and Grissom both looked up in joint surprise at her rude interruption.

"Can we help you, Catherine?" Ecklie frowned.

"You can't send Sara back to the department shrink – that's not what she needs."

Grissom stood up behind his desk, a look of suspicious growing on his exhausted face.

"Catherine, this really doesn't concern you. Sara's not a part of your team." He pointed out with his usual tact.

"I still care about her, Gil." She snapped, choosing not to dispute this with him any further and turning her attention instead to Ecklie. "Sara doesn't need to speak to that woman – she just needs her friends around her. We can give her all the support she needs."

"Catherine; while your concern for her is touching, I think Sara's issues go deeper than you and Nick Stokes can fix."

Having said what he had come to, and desperate to leave the bickering CSIs before they could question his authority any further, he brushed past Catherine towards the door.

"I trust you'll tell Sara next time you see her." He added on his way out. "Give her my best, won't you."

Catherine turned from his departing figure to stare at Grissom, who was looking at her with a mix of admiration and confusion that only served to piss her off further.

She opened her mouth, but the angry and embittered thoughts that were flitting through her head never made it out. Instead, she turned on her heel and stalked out without a word.

And as she continued on her initial route to her office, panicked tears stinging her eyes, she sank her teeth into her lower lip and tried to figure out how she was supposed to tell Sara that her worst nightmare was about to come true.


	19. Weeping Willows

**Hi all! Apologies, as always, for the wait! I've been very busy with work. However, I have finally managed to get caught up and have had some time today to plan out the next few chapters. I'm going to take the story in a slightly different direction than I'd initially planned, but I hope you like it :)**

* * *

She sighed, sinking carefully into the worn seat behind her desk.

It had been a very long day and she desperately needed to offload to someone. However, as she scrolled idly through her phone contacts, she found herself completely without potential companions.

Lindsey was still sulking about being grounded due to her suspension and her mother was still blaming her for the child's behaviour; so they were both out of the question. The boys had already clocked off for the day, and Jim wasn't even working tonight so she could scratch them from the list, as well.

She hovered over Sara's name and a brief smile graced her lips, before Nancy' words flooded back to her mind and she quickly kept scrolling.

Ever since Nancy's critical analysis of her behaviour around Sara, Catherine had found herself avoiding both her sister and the troubled young brunette. It wasn't that she was giving any credence to Nancy's thoughts, of course; she just thought it best to keep her distance for a while.

Unfortunately for her, fate had other ideas tonight. The light rap on her door went unnoticed, but she did catch the sound of someone softly clearing their throat and looked up to find the very woman leaning against her door frame with a lazy grin.

"Hey, night shift here already?" She queried, that tell-tale smile sneaking back onto lips.

"Almost. I'm early." Sara shrugged, sidling into the office and leaning across the back of a chair opposite the desk. "I just wanted to check in; it feels like ages since we caught up."

"Yeah, well..." Catherine replied vaguely, feeling her cheeks heating up.

Sara frowned at her peculiar attitude, but brushed it off for the time being.

"How's Lindsey coping with her suspension?"

Catherine choked out a bitter laugh, almost relieved at the change in subject.

"Judging by the sullen silence emanating from her room for the last few days, I'd say she's not coping too well. But since she isn't speaking to me, it's hard to say for sure."

"I'm sure she'll get over it, eventually." Sara tried to commiserate. "I mean, she has to eat, right?"

Catherine laughed, rolling her eyes.

With the atmosphere becoming increasingly awkward, Sara straightened up and slipped her hands into her pockets.

"Well, I'd better get to assignments." She smiled tightly. "Have a good night."

Catherine pursed her lips, considering letting the conversation die there; but there was a question she had been itching to ask and she just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Hey Sar," She called out before the brunette could disappear. "How ... how are things going with Belinda? You've had a couple of sessions already, right?"

The younger CSI exhaled, clearly contemplating her response carefully.

"It was weird, at first." She acknowledged. "But, she is really good at her job and she does know how to get me to talk; as a counsellor, this time. Nothing more."

Catherine knew that she should have felt reassured by the soft smile, but the idea of Belinda worming her way back into Sara's affections – even in a purely professional capacity – left a distinctly unsettled feeling in her stomach.

"Okay." She nodded, clamping down on the jealousy bubbling through her system. "Well, as long as you're talking to someone."

 _Even if it's not me._

She waited until Sara had slipped back out of the office before lamenting that last fleeting thought. Why should she care who Sara confides in?

Casting an exhausted glace at the stack of uncompleted paperwork on her desk, she decided that it could wait another day and snatched up her bag from the floor.

If she didn't have anyone to complain to, at least drown her sorrows in a few strong drinks.

* * *

Sara felt the skin on the back of her neck bristle and swallowed around the lump in her throat. Something about these places always made her feel uncomfortable.

Trying to shake the shivers away, she attempted to focus on the job at hand; but kept catching herself glancing over her shoulder into the deserted hospital corridor.

Deciding to try an old trick, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath – re-centring herself – before flicking her eyes open and letting them latch onto the first thing in her line of sight.

It was a technique that her previous boss in San Francisco had taught her, and it was something she still found useful when her ghosts started to get in the way of her work.

In this instance, the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a small hand-painted rock masquerading as a paperweight. With her work-head securely back in place and her instincts refocused, she allowed her intrigue to take over and picked up the rock.

The top was smooth, with a crude love heart daubed in red. Underneath, _J & A_ had been carved into the flat base with a sharp object.

Replacing the stone, she allowed her trained eyes to dance over the rest of the objects cluttering up the nurses' station. A photo tucked between two sheets of paper caught her eye and she slipped it out. She recognised the young man as one of the patients, although it appeared to have been taken when he was in his early teens.

So engrossed was she in her snooping, she failed to hear the gentle padding of slippered feet on the tiled floor, or the soft click of the door as it latched closed ...

* * *

She wasn't sure whether it was the dingy lights sporadically hanging above the bar or the vodka martini she'd already poured down her throat, but the man beside her was starting to look more and more attractive by the minute.

At first, she had only agreed to share a drink with him out of a burning need for some company; but she was surprised to find herself flattered by the attention of the older man.

However, as much fun as she was having, she couldn't shake the guilt eating away at her. She should be at home with her daughter – a daughter who was in desperate need of some firm parenting at the moment.

When her drinking mate made to buy another round, she quickly placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I really need to get home." She said, somewhat reluctantly. "Thanks for the drink, though. I needed this."

"Well," he delved into his pocket and produced a matchbook with a phone number scribbled on the back. "Next time you find yourself in need of a drink, give me a call."

She highly doubted that she would ever see him again, but she accepted the matchbook with a gracious smile non-the-less.

Bidding him goodnight, she hopped off her stool and began contemplating how to weave her way through the crowd that had begun encroaching on the limited space around the bar, when she felt the man's hand on her back.

"It's kind of busy now." He said, leaning close to her ear in order to be heard. "Let me walk you to your car."

* * *

The evening was colder than she anticipated, with a hint of drizzle still hanging in the air and she wrapped her jacket around herself a little tighter.

"Wow." Her companion commented with a little laugh as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I think we can safely say that winter's nearly here."

As they reached her car, she stepped out from his embrace and smiled shyly.

"Thanks for the drink." She echoed her earlier sentiment, toying nervously with her car keys.

"Thanks for joining me." He shrugged with a serpentine grin. Holding her ocean blue gaze for an obligatory second, he slowly leant in and captured her lips in a kiss. It started sweet, just testing the waters; but when she didn't pull away, he pushed her back against the car and forced his tongue between her lips.

Initially, she allowed him to take the embrace further; but when she felt a pair of cold hands sneak under her shirt and come to rest on the base of her spine, she found herself crashing back to reality and pushed him away.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this tonight. I'll call you." She mumbled unapologetically, turning her back on him and unlocking the car with slightly trembling hands.

However, before she could get it open more than an inch, it was slammed shut again and the man moulded himself to her back , the voice hissing in her ear suddenly colder than it had been before.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Feeling herself sobering up, Catherine attempted to force the door open, but she was no match to his strength.

"Go to hell." She spat, turning away from him as much as his position would allow and putting all her effort into pulling the door open.

Unexpectedly, he removed his hand from the car and the door swung open with more force than she anticipated.

Her face stung where the sharp metal corner gashed her cheek and she inhaled sharply at the pain.

Realising what he had done, the man took a step back and let her get into the car.

"You know what you are?" He offered a final parting shot, holding his hands up as if to dismiss her. "You're a fucking tease."

She watched him turn on his heel and swagger back towards the bar, before slamming the car door shut and locking it.

Switching on the car's interior light, she checked out her injury in the mirror. It was bleeding, but not heavily. Her head swam from the impact and it did occur to her that she probably shouldn't be driving – alcohol mixed with a minor concussion probably wasn't the best combination.

Extracting her cell phone, she made to call a cab, when the screen lit up of its own accord. In her confused state, it took her a minute to realise that it was ringing.

"Willows." She answered, trying her damndest to sound sober and clear-headed and failing at both.

At first the flustered young man on the end of the line wasn't making any sense to her, and she had to ask him to repeat himself. But when his words finally registered, any thoughts of her own injury fell off the radar.

Throwing the phone onto the passenger seat and not even bothering to switch the car light off, she slammed the car into gear and tore out of the Highball parking lot like a bullet out of the chamber.

Once again, Lindsey was going to have to wait. But this time, she had a damn good reason.


	20. Committed

Brass and Grissom turned in unison towards the pained screeching of wheels, both startled to see a familiar car swerve up the curving driveway and grind to a halt just behind the trio of police cars.

Catherine leapt out, leaving the door open, and jogged over to them breathlessly.

"Where is she?"

Jim managed to catch her arm before she could clatter into them and she took a second to steady herself before scanning the scene.

The gothic building towered over them; the horror-movie vibe only exacerbated by the black clouds hanging overhead and a light drizzle creating the impression of a faint mist. Blue lights flashed in the gloom, periodically illuminating the dark brick of the psychiatric hospital and reflecting off the barred windows, sending the light refracting upwards into the dark sky.

An ambulance was abandoned at a peculiar angle, the rear doors open and nobody inside.

As Catherine surveyed the scene though trained eyes, gradually catching her breath back, she was completely oblivious to Grissom's surprised gaze scrutinising her.

"How did you know about this?" He asked.

"Greg called me." She answered absently, still searching for any sign of the brunette. "Where's Sara? He said she was attacked?"

"She's still inside." Jim answered. At the horrified look that crossed Catherine's face, he realised how that must have sounded to the criminalist and quickly corrected himself. "The paramedics are with her; she's a bit out of it but she _is_ alive."

Cath dragged a hand through her hair, feeling it stick to her fingers with the dampness hanging in the air.

"What the hell happened? Why wasn't someone flanking her?"

The question was directed at Brass, but it was Grissom who cleared his throat nervously.

"I'd gone to find a key."

"A key?" She raised her brow, not quite sure whether he was being literal or cryptic.

"We were in the nurses' station and the cupboards were locked, so I went to find someone who could open them and ..."

"And what?" She pressed, becoming increasingly agitated. "What happened to Sara?"

"One of the patients locked himself in with her." Jim answered when it became evident that Grissom was struggling to form the words out loud. "He attacked her with a blade of some kind and he ..."

His sentence was cut off by the clattering rumble of narrow wheels on concrete and they all whirled around to see two paramedics wheeling a stretcher out of the tall double doors. Catherine pushed past the men towards her stricken friend. Sara was barely conscious, struggling to even open her eyes.

"Hey, hey it's alright." Catherine gripped her hand where it lay over the blanket, but Sara jerked it away violently.

"I'm sorry ma'am." One of the paramedics said, the firmness in his voice tinged with sympathy. "We need to get her to the hospital."

Understanding the request, Catherine stepped back and let them load her carefully into the ambulance.

"Greg's already en route to Desert Palms." Grissom answered as they watched the vehicle pull away from the building, the siren emitting a sharp wail that seemed to reverberate around them long after the bus had disappeared from view.

"I'll meet him there." Catherine exhaled at last.

She didn't wait for further instruction or argument as she strode to her car and climbed back in.

"She's not done with me, is she?" Gil asked despondently. Brass quirked an eyebrow at him, shaking his head slowly.

"Wait until she hears the full story."

* * *

Catherine had barely rounded the corner when Greg was on his feet and had thrown his arms around her.

"Is there any news?" She asked, clinging to the young man for a minute longer than necessary.

"Not yet." He pulled back and wiped his eyes, which were already red and bloodshot. "They won't tell me anything because I'm not family."

"They'll tell me." Cath asserted, stalking down the corridor to the nurses' desk.

He remained where he was, watching from a safe distance while she argued her case with the staff. For a moment, it appeared that she was getting somewhere; before she seemed to recoil. Even from where he was stood, Greg could see her visibly pale and he scampered over to catch her as she carefully lowered herself into a chair.

"What is it? She's going to be alright, isn't she?" He practically begged, his earnest brown eyes searching her face for some sign of hope.

Catherine shook her head slowly; although it wasn't so much in response to Greg's question as a delayed reaction to what she had just been told...

* * *

"Oh, man." Warrick exhaled, dragging both hands over his cropped curls. Nick was unable to form sentences, but he managed to express his opinion by slamming his fist into the counter with a painful crack.

This was exactly why Grissom had not wanted to tell them what had happened. He was notoriously bad at breaking distressing news; even when it was cutting through him like a knife, he still managed to come across as cold and emotionless and that was only exacerbated by the boys' heartfelt reactions.

"Greg and Catherine are with her at the hospital, we're still waiting for news." The boss continued sombrely.

"So, what actually happened?" Nick croaked, having finally found his tongue. "In a place like that, surely someone must have been keeping an eye on her?"

"You son of a bitch."

Grissom would have been relieved not to have to answer Nick's question, if not for the thundering of heels behind him as Catherine stalked into the room. The callous interruption had startled them all, but it was Gil that her irate gaze had fixed itself to.

"Cath, is she okay?" Warrick asked, but the question went unheard.

"You didn't tell me that she was raped!" She demanded of Grissom, placing her hands on her hips.

"I..." Gil opened his mouth, but nothing else came out as he remained utterly at a loss of what to say. Not that she gave him much time to explain, anyway.

"What the hell were you thinking, leaving her alone in a place like that?! Surely to God you must have considered that something like this could happen?"

"That's a good question." Ecklie chimed in from his position leaning against the doorframe. Nobody had noticed him loitering there, but his expression suggested that he'd been there for long enough to hear the heated exchange.

Grissom rolled his eyes tiredly, the weight of the day's events dragging his whole body down until he sank onto a nearby stool.

"Conrad, if you're going to condemn me for this can you at least wait until Sara's out of the woods and we've closed the case."

"No." The lab director asserted, walking into the room. "You left female CSI alone in a psych ward filled with rapists and sexual deviants. As the team supervisor, you should have at the very least performed a risk assessment before letting any of your team inside the building."

"I know." He sighed. Ecklie looked like he wanted to continue, but paused for a moment and his features softened ever so slightly.

"Is there any word from the hospital yet?"

"She's in recovery. She suffered a head injury and, given her recent gunshot injury, they want to keep an eye on her for a few hours." Cath explained, her own voice lowering as the topic of conversation shifted. "Greg's staying with her."

"Good. In the meantime, I want that hospital scene going over from top to bottom and background checks on every patient in there."

"What's the point in that?" Nick scowled. "I mean, it's not like he's going anywhere."

Grissom and Ecklie shared a look that did not go unnoticed by the others in the room.

"Wait," Warrick straightened up, trying to decipher the silent messages passing between the managers. "You do know who attacked her, right?"

"I only saw him from the back as he ran away from the scene." Gil admitted. "By the time we realised what had happened, it was too late to catch up to him."

"Oh my God." Cath rolled her eyes, shaking her hair out in frustration.

"Obviously, the hospital want this matter closing as soon as possible; but it is important we find out who did this so that they can treat him accordingly." Ecklie turned his back to Grissom and placed his hands on the bench, facing the boys. "Nick, Warrick – I want you two to catch up with Brass and then head back out to the scene. Catherine, you and Grissom are going to have a de-brief about the case so far, then I want you to head back to Sara. Presumably they've already run a rape kit, we need to get it to DNA asap."

"Um, Conrad," Grissom frowned. "This is a Grave case. I can call Sofia and Greg to go back to the scene."

"Not anymore." Ecklie asserted. "Sara's on your team and she was attacked because of your failure to put safeguards in place. I can't possibly let you anywhere near this investigation. From here on, this is a swing shift case."


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry for the delay; been very busy with real life, as it were!**

* * *

Catherine took a deep breath and straightened up, trying to present the image of a professional who was in full control of her emotions

"Excuse me," she flashed her ID card to a nurse behind the desk. "I'm with the crime lab, I'm looking for Sara Sidle – she was ... she was brought in earlier."

The nurse scanned down a list of names of recent inpatients, stopping on the one she wanted.

"The rape victim?"

Catherine winced, her stomach knotting. She had deliberately avoided saying it herself, but hearing it wasn't any easier.

"She's in room 17; round that corner, on your left."

Catherine nodded gratefully and set off in the direction of the room.

She has spent the whole drive trying to gear herself up for this; but the sight of Sara in a hospital bed – again – was too much and she had to take a minute to re-compose herself before sneaking inside.

The brunette was asleep, her head turned to one side and her gentle curls fanning across the pillow. The nurse had already carried out a sex assault kit, but they still needed to retrieve any trace evidence they could from her hair and under her fingernails.

Catherine sank into the seat beside her and opened her kit. Sliding a sheet of paper under Sara's hand, she carefully set about her work. She knew that Sara would have fought her attacker like a tiger, so she was confident that the feisty young woman would have got a piece of him.

Moving to the other side of the bed, she began to repeat the process when she was startled by a gentle touch on her face.

She had been so focussed on her work, she hadn't even noticed that she was being watched.

Sara was staring at her with a quizzical look, her fingertips dancing over Catherine's cheek.

Catherine mimicked her movements, tracing a small mark under her eye. Suddenly the events of the night come flooding back – the bar, the guy. She had forgotten all about it.

"It's nothing." She muttered softly, pushing Sara's hand away.

"You're hurt."

Catherine couldn't help but smile at the irony that Sara's first words after being raped were an expression of concern for someone else.

"I walked into a door."

Sara dropped her gaze.

"I don't suppose I could steal that excuse?" She asked quietly. It was her own way of admitting that she remember what had happened to herself, and that she didn't believe Catherine for one minute.

Unsure what else to say, Catherine peeled her latex gloves off and leant across Sara to wrap her into a hug.

It was against procedure, but right now she didn't give a damn about protocol.

* * *

She opened the door a crack, relief flooding her whole body at the sight of her sister peering through the gap at her.

"Nancy, hey." She greeted warmly, gladly accepting the offered embrace.

"How's she doing?" The nurse asked, shedding her jacket and draping it over the stair rail.

"Sleeping." Cath sighed, leading the younger female into the kitchen and pouring her a cup of coffee. She was acting autonomously, playing a part she had played a thousand times before: coffee, milk, two sugars ...

"The best thing for her right now." Nancy nodded pensively, accepting the drink and taking a slow mouthful. "Is it alright for her to be here with you, if you're running the investigation?"

"What else could I do?" Cath shrugged pitifully. "I couldn't let her go home alone and I could hardly send her home with one of the boys; not after what happened to her."

"I'm sure it'll be a big help to her knowing that you're here." Nancy offered helpfully, frowning when Catherine failed to acknowledge her support.

Sensing that she was being scrutinised, Cath looked up and sighed.

"She's seeing Belinda again – professionally."

There was a beat of silence while Catherine sipped her coffee and let this register.

"Why?" Nancy asked at last, doing a reasonably good job of reigning in her shock.

"Grissom made her go back, after she got herself shot."

"What's she said about it?" The nurse pressed.

"Nothing much. I tried to get her to talk about it, but she's never been the most open of people." Catherine emitted a dry laugh, shaking her golden waves out. "She did say that it's strictly professional this time."

"Yeah, for how long?" Nancy scoffed. "You need to sit her down and have a proper talk with her about it."

"She was raped yesterday, Nancy. I can't exactly dive into this conversation head first."

"Okay," Nancy drawled, sitting forwards. "And what do you think Belinda's going to do when she hears about that?"

Catherine pointed to a cell phone sat innocuously on the edge of the kitchen counter.

"She's been calling her all night."

"Did you answer?"

"No. I put the phone on silent." She rolled her eyes. "She works for the police and the hospital; it won't take her long to find out all the details. I just hope she doesn't expect Sara to talk about it – she's not exactly in a talking mood right now."

"Belinda's her counsellor." Nancy pointed out. "She won't take no for an answer."

"Yeah, well, tonight it isn't up to her." Catherine pushed herself wearily out of her chair and made a half-hearted effort to straighten out her clothes. "Nance, can you do me a favour and just stay here with her and Lindsey."

"Sure, where are you going?"

"I'm going to her flat; she's going to need a few things in the morning."

Gathering her keys and cell phone, she paused for a second to make sure she had everything, before spinning on her heel and scampering out of the room. Nancy cocked her head to the side, listening for the front door closing, before standing up and sauntering over to the counter, where Sara's phone was still sitting on the side.

It was locked, but she didn't need to know the passcode. The messages were lined up on the screen, in the order received. All nine of them.

Scrolling through, Nancy found herself getting increasingly annoyed by their content. They were not messages of concern from a counsellor to a patient; they were the desperate messages of a panicked lover.

Slamming the phone onto the counter, Nancy drummed her fingertips on it for a second in thought.

* * *

It took her a whole minute of trying before she worked out that Sara's front door wasn't unlocking because she was trying to use her own key. Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she extracted Sara's keys from her coat pocket and tried again.

Still, the latch didn't move.

As the familiar feeling of cold dread started to settle in the pit of her stomach, she carefully tried the handle and felt the door give with little effort.

Sara was not the kind of girl who left her door unlocked, which could only mean one thing...

Cursing herself for not bringing her gun with her, she pushed the door open as quietly as she could and slid through the gap.

However, if she was thinking that she could sneak up on the intruder, she was sorely mistaken.

"You?" She snapped, her eyes widening in shock. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I could ask the same of you." Belinda retorted coolly.

"I have a key." Cath raised an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips. "Why are you here?"

"Where's Sara?" The nurse asked, refusing to answer. Catherine, equally stubborn, pursed her lips as she ambled further into the apartment.

"She's somewhere safe."

"At your house?" Bel pressed. "I need to see her."

"No, I don't think so."

"No, you don't understand, I need to talk to her." Belinda insisted frantically, clawing both hands through her hair. "Sara bottles this sort of thing up, she needs to talk about it..."

"She will." Catherine answered bluntly. "With me."

There was a beat of challenging silence, an obstinate standoff. Finally, Catherine's willpower won out. Belinda snatched her bag off the counter and stormed past the fiery blonde. Catherine didn't move out of her way, forcing her to slide around her to get out of the tiny flat.

In her rush to leave, something fell out of her open bag.

The little box skittered across the wooden floor and came to rest against Catherine's boot-clad foot.

She didn't even need to open it. Her gut instinct told her that she would find Sara's mother's wedding ring inside.


	22. Chapter 22

Nancy jumped as she re-entered the room, startled by the silent figure sitting composed at the kitchen table.

"Catherine." She gasped. "I didn't hear you come back."

The strawberry-blonde turned ever so slightly, cocking her head to the side.

"How's Sara?"

"She's fine, I just checked on her." Nancy replied, sliding nervously into the seat opposite her sister. "What's wrong?"

Catherine met her gaze and wordlessly nudged a small velvet box towards her.

Curious, Nancy cracked it open. Inside was a small, modest gold ring.

"A few days ago, Sara told me that she thought she was losing her mind. She came home to find her apartment door unlocked; she lost a case file ... and she misplaced her mother's wedding ring."

Nancy raised her eyes, starting to realise where Catherine was going with this.

"So, where did you find it?"

"In her apartment." Catherine straightened up. "It fell out of Belinda's bag as she was leaving."

"Belinda was there?" Nancy almost choked on her own breath. "What was she doing there?"

Catherine didn't answer, but her expression said enough.

"Wow." Nancy sank back into her seat. "What are you going to do?"

" Nothing." Catherine threw her hands up. "I can't prove anything."

"Cath, you have to report this." The nurse insisted, tapping the ring box. "She's stolen from her and broken into her apartment – she's obviously obsessed!"

"Nancy; Sara is in a very delicate state – I can't drop this on her now." Catherine hissed, her eyes instinctively flicking towards the ceiling. "I don't think she could handle any more stress at the moment."

"All the more reason to get this woman away from her as soon as you can." Nancy snapped.

Catherine clawed her hands through her hair, shaking it out in frustration.

"I can't talk about this now." She groaned, pushing her chair back and standing up. "I'm going to check on her."

Nancy watched her skulk out, pensively spinning the ring on the table.

She probably should have told Catherine what she had done; but maybe now wasn't the time. Either way, whether her sister agreed with her methods or not, at least she knew she'd made the right decision now.

* * *

"This sucks." Nick huffed, throwing the newly sealed evidence bag into the box with the rest.

"What?" Warrick sniffed, not looking up from his fingerprinting.

"This! Sara being attacked; I mean, what was she even doing here in the first place?"

Warrick's shoulders dropped and he heaved himself to his feet.

"Alright, maybe bringing Sara to this scene wasn't the smartest idea;" he conceded. "But Grissom couldn't have predicted that this was going to happen."

Nick chewed on the inside of his cheek sullenly, shaking his head.

"He should have done more."

Snapping off his gloves, Warrick shoved them in his pocket and patted his friend gently on the shoulder.

"Look, getting angry at Griss isn't going to help Sara right now." He pointed out calmly. "All we can do is process the scene and take it from there."

Nick's scowl deepened and his pout increased, drawing a frustrated sigh from his mate.

"I'm going to the car for more evidence bags." Warrick declared, stomping out of the little glass nurses station.

Alone, Nick made the most of his few minutes of privacy. He sank down into the swivel chair behind the desk and ran both hands through his short hair, finally letting his walls slip as angry tears sprung to his eyes.

* * *

The soft footfall on the stairs caught her attention and she glanced up with a lazy smile.

"Morning."

"Hey." Sara murmured, subconsciously tightening her bathrobe.

Catherine pushed herself off the couch and held out a hand towards her, but promptly dropped it when Sara visibly twitched at the offer of physical contact.

"Breakfast?" She suggested instead.

"No, thanks." Sara attempted a weak smile. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something, honey." Catherine insisted, raising her hand again and this time gripping Sara's sleeve lightly and tugging her into the kitchen.

Sara slid into a chair, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Catherine surreptitiously watched her while she busied herself pouring coffee and making toast. The young brunette looked more vulnerable than Cath had ever seen her.

For the first time since they had met, Sara looked completely at a loss of how to move on from here.

Catherine placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and leant down to put a cup of coffee on the table. She felt Sara tense beneath her fingers, but refused to release her. For what felt like an age, they remained that way; until Cath felt Sara gradually starting to relax under her touch.

Smiling to herself, Catherine squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Good girl." She mumbled.

The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of sullen footsteps stomping down the stairs.

As Lindsey materialised in the kitchen, Catherine dropped her hand from Sara's arm and offered a pleasant smile.

"Morning honey." She greeted warmly.

Lindsey looked silently between the two women, before rolling her eyes and sinking heavily into a chair.

Sara attempted to proffer a smile and, receiving a little more than a cold glare in response, promptly decided that she was in the way. Gathering up her coffee, she politely excused herself back upstairs to get dressed.

Catherine watched her go, a little disappointed that her minor breakthrough had been cut short. However, she realised despondently, she had bigger fish to fry.

Sliding into Sara's vacated seat, she folded her hands on the table.

"So, am I going to get a conversation out of you today?" She enquired calmly.

Lindsey's steely blue eyes glowered at her from beneath mascara-laden eyelashes.

"Why's Sara here?"

Catherine sighed, sitting forward in her chair.

"Well, she was hurt at work yesterday and I thought it would be best for her to stay with us for the night rather than going back to her apartment."

"What happened to her?" Lindsey pressed, her features softening a little. Catherine pursed her lips, debating how much she felt comfortable revealing to the child.

"Someone attacked her at a crime scene." She settled on at last.

Lindsey cocked her head to the side, considering this new information with an unreadable expression.

After a whole minute, she met her mother's gaze again.

"Can I eat my breakfast in the lounge?" She asked, as if the previous conversation hadn't even happened.

Catherine exhaled exasperatedly and waved a hand absently at her daughter.

"Sure, go for it."

As the girl left the room and the sound of Frasier filtered through from the next room, Cath propped her head up on the table.

Technically, her daughter was supposed to be grounded, with no leisure activities – including TV – but Catherine was too tired to put up a fight today.

She had been up all night, which was not an uncommon feat given her work hours; but suddenly she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep until this whole nightmare was over.


	23. Chapter 23

"We checked the scene, but there wasn't a whole lot to go on." Nick sighed. "A lot of fingerprints, but most of them will probably come back to the hospital staff."

"Well, tell Mandy to put a rush on it anyway. We might get lucky." Cath answered half-heartedly, her attention still mainly drawn to the list of potential suspects. Most of them were sexual offenders and all of them had a history of violence. Quite frankly, Sara was a very lucky girl to have walked away from the attack with so few injuries.

"Any word on when Sara will be back?" Warrick asked, fidgeting awkwardly with the folder in his hands. For the first time, Catherine took her glasses off and met their gaze.

"She's still pretty shaken up by it all. To be honest, I think she could do with a proper break from work, but I doubt she'll go for that." She exhaled. "If I can keep her off for a week, I think we can call that an achievement."

"Yeah, I'll say." Nick chuckled. "So, have you spoken to Grissom yet?"

"No, he keeps trying to call me but I haven't answered. I don't have anything much to say to him at the moment."

The boys shared a knowing look between themselves which went completely unnoticed by the stressed-out supervisor.

"Hey Cath," Nick cleared his throat softly. "Don't go too hard on him. He never meant to let this happen."

"No." She agreed curtly. "He never does. But he was responsible for her welfare and he let her down."

Deciding that the conversation was over, she gathered her papers into an untidy pile and stalked out of the room, leaving a cold chill in her wake.

"Well," Warrick nodded slowly. "I think it's safe to say that Grissom's toast."

* * *

Seeking refuge in her office, Catherine put her glasses on and resumed her laborious reading; but her peace and quiet was not to last very long.

The abrupt entrance was only briefly heralded by the sound of angry footsteps clicking towards the lab.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Catherine jumped as two hands slammed onto her desk and she found herself staring up into the ice cold eyes of Belinda Bell.

"I'm sorry?" She queried, standing up and taking her glasses off once again.

"I know that you didn't like me seeing Sara, but don't you think that this is too far?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Cath frowned, holding up her hands.

Belinda took a step around the desk, bringing them closer together. Her eyes narrowed to slits, but the venom in her voice never faltered.

"I've been _suspended_." She spat. "The hospital found out about my relationship with Sara – apparently _someone_ put in an anonymous complaint."

"And by someone, you mean me?" Catherine assumed, folding her arms defensively.

"Well, who else?" Belinda threw her hands up. "They're carrying out an internal investigation and if I'm found to have breached my position of trust, I could have my nursing licence revoked!"

Catherine pursed her lips and jutted out her chin, saying nothing. After a tense stand-off, Belinda choked out a laugh.

"Of course you don't care; why would you?" She shook her head, taking a step back. "You've had it in for me ever since you first found out about me and Sara. Well, congratulations, mission accomplished - my career is over!"

Turning on her heel, she made it as far as the door before Catherine's calm voice halted her in her tracks.

"Sara's fine ... in case you were wondering."

Belinda turned slowly to face her, her expression unreadable, and lowered her voice.

"You have no idea what this is going to do to her." She offered coolly. "You think you're helping her, but you've just made things worse."

* * *

She hadn't realised it, but she had been stirring her coffee for so long that it had gone cold.

She had assumed that Catherine was the one who reported her because, quite frankly, it made the most sense. But the more she thought about it, the more she started to reconsider. The CSI may have covered it well, but initially she had appeared surprised to find out about her suspension.

Which now led her to question who else could have reported her. As far she as was aware, nobody else from the lab knew about it. And she couldn't imagine Sara would drop her in it; that wasn't her style. _She_ hadn't told anyone about the illicit relationship, so it must have come from someone who Sara had told.

And while she sat pondering the matter, stirring her cold coffee, a possible solution to her puzzle walked through the door.

The boys didn't even notice her at first – why would they? She had never so much as had a conversation with them beyond a casual 'hi' in the corridor. But she recognised them instantly; Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders, two of Sara's friends and colleagues.

They chatted amicably as they placed their orders, before mooching through the diner to find a booth. But as they walked past her table, one of them caught her eye and seemed to pause for a moment. The look on his face was hard to decipher, but it certainly was not an expression of familiar warmth.

Finally, he continued past without a word and sat down with his back to her.

It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to make her re-think her earlier assumptions.

As far as she was aware, Catherine was the only person in the lab who knew about her relationship with Sara. But what if she was wrong? What if Sara had told someone else?

If so, then there was only one person Sara was close enough to, one person she was likely to confide such person information in.

Greg Sanders.

* * *

As she sat at the red light, drumming her fingertips on the steering wheel impatiently, Catherine's mind worked through her earlier encounter with Belinda.

The nurse was right about one thing; she couldn't exactly claim to be sad that she had been suspended.

Still, she wasn't the one who had reported her; and it wouldn't have been Sara – the brunette was hardly in the right frame of mind yesterday to be making such important decisions.

But who else knew about it? Sara had already assured her that she hadn't told Grissom or the boys, and Catherine sure as hell hadn't told them. In fact, she hadn't told anyone.

Except for one person...


	24. Chapter 24

"You reported her!" The words had left her lips before the door even slammed shut behind her. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Nancy barely even reacted to the ungainly entrance, continuing to sip her drink.

"I was thinking that she needed to be stopped before she wrecked Sara's mental state all together." She stated calmly, standing up. "Coffee?"

"No." Catherine snapped, beginning to pace around her sister's small kitchen table. "I can't believe you did that without even telling me!"

"I didn't report her to the police; I just reported it to my line manager at the hospital."

"It doesn't matter who you reported it to because she still thinks it was me."

"Huh." Nancy hummed with a frown. "Well, I suppose that would make sense. You are the most likely to report her."

"Nancy!" Catherine growled, throwing her handbag down into a chair and clawing both hands through her hair.

Nancy leant against her counter and folded her arms, finally facing her irate sister.

"Look, you said yourself that something needed to be done and you clearly weren't going to do it yourself."

"No, because I was trying to protect Sara!" Cath hissed. "Once this is out in the open, she's going to have a lot of questions to face – questions that she isn't up to answering right now."

"Is that the only reason?" Nancy challenged.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Nancy exhaled, taking her sibling's arm and attempting to drag her into a seat, "that once your colleagues find out, you're going to have to explain to them why you kept the information to yourself."

"To protect Sara." Catherine frowned, shrugging Nancy off and refusing to be seated.

"Or, maybe you enjoyed being the only person who knew?" Nancy offered with raised eyebrows. "Maybe you liked the fact that Sara was forced to confide in you, because you were the only person she could talk to about this."

Catherine scoffed, taking a moment to find a suitable rebuttal and coming up empty.

"Why do you think I reported her to the hospital, rather than the police?" Nancy continued rhetorically. "Because _your_ behaviour towards Sara is skating that thin line of _abuse of position_ , and I didn't want you to get dragged into all of this."

"Are you kidding me?" Catherine almost choked. "I've never done anything to hurt Sara, I love her!"

Nancy quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the older woman to realise what she had just said.

However, before she had the chance, a disapproving noise by the door caught their attention and they both turned to find Lily watching them with a mix of intrigue and disappointment.

The matriarch's arrival silenced the conversation, but didn't manage to kill the tension brimming between the sisters.

With a heavy sigh, Lily placed her handbag on the kitchen table and put her hands on her hips, cocking her hip to one side in a pose that was depressingly reminiscent of their childhood.

"Okay, who wants to start?"

* * *

Catherine killed the engine and sat back in the seat for a moment, staring at her house.

The conversation with her mother hadn't gone quite as bad as she expected, but it certainly could have gone better. To Catherine's relief, at least, Nancy had kept her opinions to herself regarding Catherine's alleged feelings for Sara.

Taking a deep breath, she exited the car and strode up to the house.

Sara was curled up on the sofa with a book when she entered and looked up with a smile.

"Hey," Cath greeted warmly. "You look a bit better today."

Sara nodded, shuffling into a seated position and putting her book to one side as Catherine sank down beside her.

Sensing her colleague's stress, Sara frowned.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Cath patted her knee gently. "It's just been a long day."

"Grissom?" Sara guessed, drawing a laugh from the blonde.

"Fair guess! He's certainly on the list." She slipped her jacket off and threw it over the arm of the sofa, before turning to face her friend. "I don't know; I know he means well. He's just so frustrating sometimes."

"You don't have to tell me." Sara rolled her eyes, causing another laugh to bubble out of Catherine.

"True. Yet you still stayed for him."

Sara frowned, not following.

"A couple of years ago, you were threatening to leave. Then Grissom sent you a plant, and you stayed."

Sara thought back to the incident, before starting to laugh.

"You think I stayed because Grissom sent me a plant?"

"Didn't you?" Cath shrugged.

"No." Sara shook her head, still chuckling to herself. "I mean, I did stay because of the plant; but not because he sent it to me. I stayed because you convinced him to send it."

"Really?" A smile crept onto Catherine's face. "I wasn't even aware that you knew that."

"Well, I did." She nodded. "And I appreciated the fact that you cared enough to keep me in Vegas."

"Of course I wanted to keep you here; you're a part of the team!"

"Yeah, well that was probably the first time I really felt like it. So, thank you for my plant."

Catherine laughed as Sara stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

"If I'd had it my way, you'd have got flowers." She called after her playfully.

Alone, Cath suddenly realised what she had said to Nancy, right before her mother walked in.

Sitting forward on the couch, she pressed her hands to her lips and released a long breath.

She had said that she loved Sara.

She _did_ love Sara.


End file.
